Sometimes, I wondered, why she never spoke to anyone else, why she only let me in. after all, what was I in the grand scheme of things. I loved her, and she loved me. She could accept all of my pain, and I could accept hers. We were both healing together. I didn't realize until now, but we were the only ones we trusted. She only shared with me, and I only shared with her. If she'd lived, I think we might have lasted long into the dusty ages.
Now, she is gone, and all I can think about is how little time we had, how little she told me, how little I'd learned, and I weep. I never truly knew my soulmate, long before she died. I thought I would have a lifetime to learn her, figure out who she was until she became a part of me. I trusted her to live for us, so we could be together forever. And that was where I failed.
I remember the first month we'd met, after a week of talking to each other, what truly made me start to love her. She came to me, and talked as we normally did, but, something told me she was all wrong. She laughed and spoke with her usual gentle softness and humor, but her eyes seemed dim and sad. She waited until I'd left before sneaking around and behind the bleachers inside. I followed her, and found her crying on the ground. I can't quite describe the feeling that went through me. I suppose it can only be described as male instinct to protect, but I went over to her and asked what was wrong. She said nothing, but she stared at me, as if waiting for something. I didn't know what I was doing, but I spread my arms. She looked at me with the strangest expression before quietly walking over to me and wrapping her arms around me.
I recall vividly the feeling. It was like I was holding her life in my hands. She felt so breakable, so small. I think I fell for her long before my arms had finished closing. She was the first person In the world who'd ever truly trusted me. Every other person had always backed away, found an excuse, left me. But she, she trusted me enough to bare herself to me. While I held her, she told me everything. Every word she had been called and tormented with.
I had just stood there and listened, until, eventually, she had nothing left to say. I remember the silly little things I said to try and cheer her up, and my hand, of its own volition, had wiped away those tears on her face, and I'd looked into her eyes, and for the first time, she'd looked happy. I knew something changed that day. I pulled her back against me, and began to tell her all of my pain, every memory I'd suppressed and hidden, every day I'd been alone and scared. And, most miraculously of all, she listened to me, she comforted me, she cried with me. I have never been more thankful to have anyone in my life. Someone I could trust...