Place taken - Unknown

I don't believe in soul mates. But sometimes, it's nice to think that somewhere in this gargantuan planet is actually a special someone just for you. Two people so singled out by destiny and fate to wind up being with each other, no matter how long it took. If the two of you were pre-destined, then you're meant to be. In one way or another, at some point in time, no matter how long the wait, you would end up in each other's arms.

The idea of having a soul mate is nice. It's pleasant. It's ideal. But it's surreal. It isn't life. In life, it is pointless to wait for such a long time, and for what? For hope? For two people to keep on waiting for that one miraculous day when they haplessly bump into each other by kismet, and significantly change their lives the moment they lay eyes upon the other, is simply preposterous. Waiting is one of the most excruciating types of pain. To subject one's self to such is no act of self-preservation, but a cruel ride to a slow and lonely death.

Maybe it’s not the possibility that I’m drawn to, but the tragedy. Because true romance is fleeting, and it doesn’t happen in real life. Somehow, while crossing through the bonds of reality and imagination, true romance loses its essence. And what we’re left with… is mere fantasy.

It is what it is – tragic.