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“I fell in love with one whom I believe to be my only soulmate; she showed me the world-- she was my world. And my world was taken from me.
Love stories have never appealed to me, yet I have never been repulsed by them-- I accepted love to be a part of life, unsure of whether it was to be a part of mine. Although I never had a ‘tragic backstory,’ expressing my emotions was a challenge for me, and somewhere in my heart I feared that my lack of communication would leave me to a loveless life. Having no real issue, I felt invalidated— that was until I met her.
She was labeled as someone’s daughter, someone’s friend, someone’s sister, someone’s niece; but she wasn’t just a fragment of someone-- she was a human too.
I lived a simple life, with nothing in general to complain about; though no matter how fulfilled one’s life is, somewhere inside them they will be empty. I resonated with that; the feeling that no matter how many times I laugh or cry, I’d still never truly be whole. She understood the emptiness I felt. She made my void close; and I hers.
The void wasn’t shrinking, though; it was being filled by a new creation altogether— love. It was rising within us, bonding together all facets of our beings to create our worlds; I was her world, and she was mine. And I should have noticed.
One of her hobbies was wrestling; I assumed that’s where her bruises came from. We talked a lot about myself; I didn’t know a lot about her, but knowing what she liked was enough. She liked me; and I like her. When I confessed, I saw her face contort into a look of pain-- though she quickly masked it and expressed how happy she was to take me as her girlfriend. I never understood the flash of sorrow that washed over her; I wish I’d asked.
It was as if the more I found out about her, the more I was curious about. Although she would answer my questions, I didn’t want to risk stepping outside of her boundaries. I remember discussing how we would look when we aged; she shriveled up, muttering about how I will age but she’d always be 17. She noticed my concerned expression, saying that she’ll always be with me. “Somewhere in my heart I’ll watch you attentively,” she told me. It was strange, though she looked tense-- I didn’t want to disturb her. I should have disturbed her.
My own joy washed over the mystery of her; knowing now why she behaved that way washes a wave of regret over me. There was only one way to know;”

 Part one concluded.
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