He was My Soul-Mate

He was my soul-mate. Not the romantic kind, but soul-mate just the same. We met at work, and I loved him instantly. It was almost as if I had known him for decades – and not only a few seconds. I remember the day clearly. I was wrestling around the office with my coworker when we met. He was sitting at the computer – his back to us, trying not to stare at our ridiculousness. One loud “Hi-Ya!!” threw us both onto the floor and he finally turned around, looked at the hilarity of the situation and laughed. I invited him out for a beer, and that was the end of it. We were inseparable from that moment forward, our lives forever entangled. It was like he was supposed to be in my life all along, and I had a hard time remembering that there were 22 years prior in which I existed without him. He was the place I felt safe. He was the happiest part of my day. We never dated, we never kissed, but it was love from the very beginning. He was my brother and my best friend – my protector and my cheerleader. We laughed together and we cried together. We fought like siblings. He could finish my sentences and I knew the punchlines to all his jokes just as well as he did.

Many people have known me in my life, but so few have been able to see into my heart. The real parts of it. He understood the ugly and the broken. He accepted my faults and my crazy and loved me even more because of them. If I thought I could have saved him, I would have walked through hell and back for him. My heart hurts without him. I see his face in my dreams and hear his jokes in my head. I miss him with every ounce of my heart. Many people can talk to us when we are sad, but he could speak to my soul without words. He gave me a safe place to say all the ugly things I am thinking when I am upset. He let me act out on my feelings – good or bad, without judgement, always understanding why – even when I didn’t. I could tell him what he was feeling when he was afraid to say it out loud. He knew I was his safe place as well.

I didn’t care that he was broken. I didn’t care how ugly it got toward the end. I picked him up from the side of the road, the beach, the bar, the police station, the supermarket, and sidewalk benches. I answered every single phone call no matter where I was or how frustrated I was with him, because I was terrified that one day he would be in danger and I would miss the call and lose him. I would have picked it up for 100 more years to keep him safe. I would have picked him up every single time. I wanted to save him so badly, but he couldn’t stay. Just beyond my reach… The addiction took him to a place I couldn’t reach. It locked his mind in a state of unfamiliarity. He couldn’t recognize the difference between friends and enemies, or light-hearted fun and self destruction. The demons took over and claimed his life in the middle of the night. They took his body, but they freed his soul. I hope he found peace. I hope he can hear me and see me. I hope he knows how much I miss him, and how fiercely I loved him. I hope he knows that my world is a little less bright without him. He was my soul-mate, and no amount of time will ever take that from me.