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Nothing to Hope For
“Yours is the one with mean eyes and a ponytail.”
My friend Natasha said this as she tried not to laugh at the affronted look that crosses my face.
“You know,” I started, “if you hadn’t of already found yours, I would be sat here, pointing out every man over the age of 60 and saying ‘yours’. Besides he’s already marked, it’s why he has his hair up.”
She looked at the man a little more closely before acquiescing with a nod. His neck had the telltale black mark of a bonded soulmate. The mark looked to be in the shape of some bird. His soulmate would be somewhere around, with a matching mark in the same place.
“Bucky,” Nat said as her hand moved up to touch her own mark behind her ear. “You can’t keep living like your soulmate isn’t out there. They could be here, just waiting for you.”
She gestured at the people around us, taking a sip from her coffee. My eyes wandered around the bright café.
I’ve always found it funny how you can sit with a friend and be surrounded by plenty of people, and still feel so lonely. There’s always a line that I have to cross to feel like I’m part of society, to feel more than the only person in whichever space I occupy. The quick analysis would be that I feel this way because, in a world where soulmates exist, I will never have one.
“You know how I feel about foolishly hoping for something,” I said, giving Natasha a look over my glasses. “Don’t hope if there’s –”
“Nothing to hope for,” she finished for me. She rolled her eyes before getting up and bringing her now empty mug to the counter.
I laughed quietly as several people purposely brushed against her, hoping to find their soulmate. It’s something that, at 26, I’ve never gotten used to; everyone’s need to touch, to obsessively try to find their “chosen one”. I personally can’t stand it.
I’ve always distanced myself from other people. I knew from a young age that I wouldn’t have a soulmate, so throughout most of my life, I avoided people. Said that I had one, so people wouldn’t do the standard handshake when we met. Said that I had one so that people wouldn’t ask me to enter into a “placeholder relationship”.
It was always the same two conversations with Natasha. “Why aren’t I looking for a soulmate,” or “why don’t you find someone to fill the void until you do?”
Many people will start relationships with others who haven’t found their soulmates, just to push away the loneliness until they do find their “forever person”. Knowing I don’t have a soulmate, makes this hard; whoever I get with, will spend all their time looking for someone else. I won’t, I can’t.
“I’m ready to go to the park,” she said, bringing me back to earth, “if you are.”
“Yeah, let’s go.”
We walked through the café, happy to be getting out of there as the crowd was looking less like people and more like sardines. I had to resist the urge to scream at the feeling of the hands brushing out to us to see if we matched with any of the non-bonded.
We only had to walk a few blocks to get to our favorite park, but my temper just got more frayed with each passing touch. Between the never-ending conversation about my non-existent soulmate, and people being so touchy-feely, it was no wonder that I finally snapped and slapped one guy's hand away.
After that, Nat took my elbow and steered me towards our favorite bench, under this large weeping willow. We had sat there in silence for several minutes before the questioning began again.
“Look,” Natasha started, her words rising in heat, “Bucky, I’m just trying to understand what you have against finding your soulmate. You always talk about how you don’t have one, but it’s proven that at least 97% of people have one. You can’t be part of the 3%.”
I huffed in irritation at her. It’s always the same conversation and I’m so tired of it. The alternative, telling her the truth, isn’t worth her looking at me in pity. I could deal with the looks of mild exasperation, but never pity. I looked around the park thinking it may be better to just escape from her.
“I’ve told you a million times, I’m not about to again. Don’t hope if there’s no–”
“Nothing to hope for,” she said cutting me off. I felt Natasha grab my shoulder and turn me towards her so she could look me in the eye. “How can you be so sure that you’re part of that 3%. What are you not telling me, James?”
My eyes fell to the ground, of course, she would use my first name. I kept my eyes on the ground, even as she kept her hands on my shoulders to keep me facing her, to keep me trapped. Part of me hated that I was lying to her, but this is something that I had kept to myself for 20 years. It’s just so much easier to go on with this buried. If I brought this out, then it would become a Thing, and with Things, there would be Talks, and with Talks, it would become real.
“There’s no–”
“Bullshit!”
I growled in frustration and knocked her hands off my shoulders. I didn’t move from the seat as I buried my face into my palms. I started to wish I had taken the escape route when I was able. The phantom weight on my shoulders pulled at me. Could it be that it was time for me to say something?
“I just,” she started, her voice softening. “I just can’t believe that you could be so sure that you are part of the 3%. The statistics have proven–“
“You know what else that the statistics have proven?” I asked my hands. “That 76% of people find their soulmates before the age of 18. That 42% of us meet before middle school. I know the statistics, Natalia, because I am one.”
I heard her gasp and her hands pulled at mine. Her eyes were filled with the pity that I had always tried to deny myself. I looked past her, at the rest of the park. My eyes zeroed in on a couple that looked like they had just bonded; lifting their shirts to show the black marks against their stomachs.
“You have a soulmate? How come I’ve never seen…”
“My mark?” I let out with a laugh. “What region on my body haven’t you seen?”
“Oh my god! It’s on your pe–”
“NO!” I slapped a hand over her mouth. “It’s on my inner thigh.”
She gave me a look that made me feel like it was my fault she assumed that location before she removed my hand from over her mouth.
“How come I’ve never met… them…?”
“I met Steve when I was 6, visiting my mother in the hospital. It wasn’t an easy time for me. We were just being taught that it was ok to reach out to people to find our soulmates. My three best friends at the time had found theirs doing it, so I was looking forward to finding mine, right? Well, I was walking down a hallway coming back from the restroom, my arms open wide so I could touch as many people as I could. Suddenly I felt the burn in my inner thigh and I looked over at the boy I was touching. I couldn’t tell you what color his hair was, as he had none, but his eyes. They were the bluest eyes I had ever seen. Honestly, his eyes are all I can remember of him. I spent that day with him, but when I went back to see him the next day, they told me he had passed. His nurse is the only other person who knew that we were soulmates. My dad had asked about who I had spent that day with, but my mother’s passing only a few days later overshadowed me going missing for a few hours one day. That’s why I know I won’t have a soulmate.”
Natasha’s eyes were filled with tears for me. My eyes were drier than I expected them to be. I guess you can only shed so many tears over one person before you dry yourself out.
“Because your soulmate is already gone. Why haven’t you tried with someone else?”
“It’s not fair to me if I get into a relationship with someone who is going to spend the entire time we are dating looking for someone else. I’ll get too invested and just end up heartbroken, watching that person be happy.”
Nat nodded along, understanding my reasoning. She grabbed my hand before asking,
“What about someone who’s has lost their soulmate as well?”
I laugh bitterly, looking again to that happy, newly bonded couple. Several other people had noticed what had happened, and worked their way over to them to wish them merriment.
“Try finding someone who is: 1. Nearby, 2. Within ten years of my age and 3. Even wants to be in a relationship.”
She jostled my hand to get me to look at her.
“I am so sorry, Bucky. I’m sorry you had to live with all this bottled up. I hope that one day you can be okay.”
A wicked smile graced my face.
“You know me: Don’t hope if there’s nothing to hope for.”