Bert was never really curious about his soulmate. When he was eighteen the name appeared on his wrist. He wondered about it briefly, then moved on with his life.
He met Mary Poppins while working as a sketch artist in his twenties. She was wonderful, beautiful, magical; everything he'd ever dreamed and more. She introduced herself and his wrist burned.
Mary Poppins didn't have a name on her wrist.
Bert didn't mind. She could never be his, but he he loved her and he knew that, in her own way, she loved him too.
And that was enough for him.