Guest Writer 
Dear Soulmate,
In the corners of my mind, I’m always making a list of the things that I’m going to tell you. My childhood, how hard college was, my favorite memories, things I like, things I don’t like. I’m going to let you read my journal. And you will, without hesitations. You would like to know the things going on inside my mind.
I will point out my insecurities. I will tell you how bad of a daughter I was. I will share my deepest mistakes to you, and I know I would sound ridiculous but still you would listen. You’d tell me not to think of myself like that. And I would listen. I like doing things for you.
You would give me my entire life’s worth in single moments. We would lie under the weathervane where we wheeze awake. You would point at the moon but I would look at your hands. I tell myself, that is the hand that will never hurt me. You’d tell me what you know about desire and I’d surrender.
And then I’d tell you how sorry I was. Sorry if I love like this. I never knew how to. I thought love shouts and mocks and blames. Then, you’ll tell me it doesn’t. Love is forgiving. Love doesn’t hurt back. I’d look at you confused. And for some reason, you’d make me understand.
I’d melt into you. You, all feeling, all flesh and curved. Ash and dirt. Your warm stare makes my skin hurt. With you beside me, everything is bearable.
Is it okay to call you my soulmate? In a sense that when we are together, I mistake you for myself. In a way I can’t escape.
You’d be so gentle. And so far away. Somehow, I’m always trying to reach for you with my arms and fingers stretched.
I can’t help but pray sometimes. I’d pray that God turns me back into one of your ribs, or in the spaces between your fingers. I’d tell you that, and you’d laugh. “You will always be with me,” you would say. You never managed to steal my breath because I willingly handed it over to you.
Will I ever see you? Something ineffable would rise in my throat. And then, my heart started pounding with some kind of hope.
You deserve to be known more than this. Soon, when I finally meet you, I’ll write more. Because I’d remember. Those gentle eyes, the tremors of your hand, your red-stained cheeks, the softness of your words, like no one had ever touched it before, not even your mother, not even the world, inconsolably envelopes my dust-filled heart.
Thinking of you always,
Sesa
To our sender, we hope that when your soulmate arrives, it will feel like the missing chapters of your story slotting seamlessly into place. We can’t wait for the future when your writings find its muse in their presence!
