My Soulmate is AS*HOLE

I’m starting to think my soulmate is an as*hole. Like, a literal one. Or worse maybe he doesn’t even exist. And yet… I feel him. That’s the part I can’t logic away. Not in dreams. Not in visions.
But in these strange, quiet corners of my day. Like a shadow brushes past my heart when no one’s around. Just a few days ago, I was talking to a man—a kind and nice MAN.

And life? It was surprisingly good-ish. I’d been keeping up in classes (miraculously), laughing more, hanging out with friends, and even the storms at home had calmed down into an uneasy, suspicious peace. The kind where you’re just waiting for something to explode but politely pretending it won’t. Still, in the middle of all that normalcy, I was seized by a strange ache. A sensation I couldn't explain. As though my heart is crying…or like I am doing something I shouldn’t. Like just by speaking to this NICE man, I’d betrayed someone I didn’t even know. Someone I couldn’t see. Someone who might not even be real and yet, I felt his sadness like a knife slid quietly between ribs. So, obviously, I kinda panicked and disturbed called my friend at 1 am, who is into spiritual stuff. You know, the one who probably smudges her groceries with sage and talks to plants like they pay rent. She said,“We’re all energy. And when energies are connected, they speak. Not with words. With frequency. With resonance.”(Yes, she said “resonance” with a completely straight face.) According to her, I might’ve felt his grief through the bond—like music leaking from a room down the hall. Barely audible. But undeniable. And listen. I don’t know what to do with that.

I just know I felt it.
Him.

Wherever, whoever, whatever he is.
Annoyingly silent. Probably brooding. Might be allergic to emotional availability.
But real—somehow.
And I think he was hurting. Because I flirted with someone who wasn’t him. Honestly? I feel… a little sad. And okay maybe a tiny bit of guilt too inside of me.Because if my soulmate is actually out there somewhere wandering around the universe looking for me… and if he’s hurting because of me, even in some weird metaphysical way? That kind of wrecks me. Which is ridiculous, right? I mean, I don’t even know him. But still. You feel things. You do things. Because deep down, who doesn’t secretly adore the idea of a soulmate? It’s been stitched into us since childhood through fairy tales, romance, a soulmate. It’s every little girl’s dream to be found. To be known.To be the person someone looks at and thinks, “Ah. Finally. There you are.” Even if he's late. And probably brooding. And definitely sucks at texting but whatever “He is my soulmate”.

Now here comes the as*hole part…