Sean: MismatchedMature

We decide to forgo hangover brunch and Lavender leaves.  I try to let all the words of this morning go, and head to the bathroom for my much needed shower.

Staring at myself in the mirror, I look the same as always-- but I can't shake the feeling that either I or something around me has been irreparably changed.  Foundations are shifting.

As the water hits me, so do the ideas.  I don't know about other writers, but I do some of my best thinking in the shower.  It's a refuge like no other, where one can be totally alone, totally bare, the cleansing not only literal but symbolic.  It's a chance to shed the grime of life and see it as it truly is, in the instant before it spirals down the drain.  Fleeting moments in time.

I'm a hopeless romantic.  I know it.  All my life I've clung to the idea that love would find me, and when it did I would know it and embrace it with all my heart.  But I am, alone.  I feel like a spoiled brat, resenting that all I have are friends.  Justin was a friend, but god, I wanted so much more.  And listening to Lavender was like being inside my own head, hearing my thoughts spoken aloud, directed back at me through an amplifier.

Can you be someone's soulmate if you aren't thir's?  The idea of soulmates clearly implies a matched set, but what if...what if there were some mismatched pairs lying around?  Destined to love but never quite fit.

I shut off the water.  I'm tired of thinking.

The End

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