Soul Mates?

I think they exist.

Just not always romantically.

I think there are certain people you will meet in your life who you just connect with more than anyone else and you just know it isn't a typical thing and you understand each other perfectly. And this person won't always be your "significant other" I mean it could be your friend or sibling or parent or teacher or the person you're dating or whoever. It could be just about anyone you've ever interacted with.

We were in his room. His dark room, with nothing but the light from outside reflecting on his curtains. It felt kind of like a dream. A nostalgic feeling. I try to remember the first time we hung out together. In his exact same room. Reading poems and discovering the manga book. Norman. How to describe him? He isn't always the nicest. In fact he's quite a jerk sometimes. But still. I always thought it was because he didn't know how to control his feelings. His emotions. What to do with them. What to say. She felt like she was one of those people to him that he couldn't quite say out loud that he cared for. But once in a while she figured that he did, because at times…he did show it. And she believed him. You could see through his eyes, and his smile. The way he stood, walked, and chuckled awkwardly. I had never met anyone like Norman. He was sincere, he was sensitive, and he did things with a genuine heart. He was innocent. And people could easily take advantage of him. It may seem like a weakness, but you don't meet a lot of guys like that. You felt good being around him. He didn't follow the typical muscular jerk stereotype you would expect. He wasn't arrogant. He wasn't prideful. He didn't think he was better than you. And, yes he was quickly tempered, and got angry, and didn't know how to act with that anger, and yelled at you when he did, and didn't always give you the attention you sometimes wanted. But it didn't matter, because he was her best friend. And she was his. Just two lonely souls in their world. Even though he couldn't admit it, or hadn't quite realized it, she did. Although I hope he could someday.

"We haven't hung out like this. In my room for a while, I mean." Norman told her.

"Yeah, I guess."

I looked over at Juno. I found it weird. That my dad had introduced him to taxidermy. I wonder whether he'll ever keep doing it, or if he'll eventually forget about it.

"You know, the first time we were up here, we read a poem." She said to him.

"Yeah." Norman chuckled awkwardly like he usually did. "Maybe we should read another poem."

"Really? Which one?"

Norman stood up, and bent over to his left night side table. He opened his bottom drawer and pulled out an old looking book.

"You know I found that manga book in the hotel. I found this one in the basement of the house. It's a poem book."

He handed the book to me.

I started flipping through the pages.

It was exactly like I liked it. Old and dusty. It had a sense of a mysterious, nostalgic feeling.

"This this book must be as old as the house is."

Norman smiled.

"So, which one do you want to read?" I asked.

"You choose."

She closed the book hard.

"How about we open the book together and whichever page we open to, we read."

Norman nodded.

I took one side of the book and Norman took the other. Together we opened the book just around the middle.

"You read." Norman told her.

And so she did, like she did the first time.

"people are all the same but you and i we're not like them. so to say that we'll both stay, isn't me and it isn't you either. we're tragically drawn to one another and eventually we'll fall apart. so let's enjoy whatever it is we have, because when we're done, i wouldn't know what else to give you other than a story. and that alone might be the most beautiful thing we'll ever live to tell."

r.m. drake

"Now, I can tell you what this poem means." Said Norman

I thought he might have remembered the first poem and how I had to explain it to him. I guess it's his turn now.

"I think what the poem is trying to say is that…we all have a tragic ending. Some way or another. But before the end of our story, we do have happy moments and those are the ones we need to remember, because we can't avoid death and we can't avoid how our story ends. That's why we shouldn't think of them. At the end, the greatest stories we'll ever tell, are the ones when we were happy.

I laughed. "So, I see you've gotten better at poetry."

Now, he laughed as well.

She breathed this poem from the first word to its last. She knew she had a tragic ending, she knew she was going to die far too soon than anyone. She of course didn't know Norman's. She didn't know his tragic ending. But at the end of her life she would want to tell the happy stories. The ones with her dad, with Norma. The ones with Norman. Even if by then they aren't close, or have lost complete contact of each other. She'll tell the stories of her adventures with Norman.

She spoke to him now.

"I'm glad you're my friend Norman. Do you think it's true? What the poem is saying?"

Norman shook his head.

"I don't know about the whole 'tragic ending thing' Emma…but I don't think that's the point of the poem. I think the point is not to think about the ending. To be happy now, so we can tell of our happy moments when the hard times come."

"I think I understand that. I'm just…I'm glad. That you got to be a part of my happy stories. That your family could be a part of my happy stories. But mostly just you.

He chuckled again.

"I'm glad you were part of my stories too. It made me feel less lonely here."

He smiled at her. They smiled at each other.

There were times where she wanted more attention from Norman. Not even romantically anymore. Just as a friend. But then again, she was glad to have his family in her life. She was glad to have him in her life. Even if she sort of forced herself in there. She was glad. It had been the best friendship she has ever formed.