It seems like love is more exciting when it’s unexpected.
And more exciting still when it’s unexpected because it is forbidden.
And so it was with her.
He told her things in confidence he had never told anyone else. Had never even admitted to himself. Not really. But he wasn’t supposed to be talking to her at all, about anything, so withholding secrets just seemed kind of silly.
It wouldn’t have mattered anyway. The words didn’t need to cross his lips for her to know exactly what he was thinking, almost before he thought it. She saw straight through him like a piece of glass.
He wouldn’t say “soul mate,” because he’s not sure what that means, or if he even believes in it. But she sure seems familiar. Feels familiar. He feels more comfortable with her than he has ever felt alone. And some of the things she says, it’s like she is articulating his deepest, innermost thoughts. Only more eloquently.
To say he “wanted” her would be insulting, both to her and to the term. And there was no sugary “you complete me” nonsense here either. He didn’t think they needed to say or acknowledge anything to each other. He hoped they just knew.
In his mind, they were like incestuous, overlapping yin yang twins, both yin and both yang, complementary opposites and perfect matches for what the other needed and desired.
But he had no way of knowing what she thought. If she felt it too. Some things just aren’t said. When you’re both spoken for. It was the only question he could not ask her.