What we find in a soulmate is not something wild to tame but something wild to run with.
How will I survive this missing? How do others do it? People die all the time. Every day. Every hour. There are families all over the world staring at beds that are no longer slept in, shoes that are no longer worn. Families that no longer have to buy a particular cereal, a kind of shampoo. There are people everywhere standing in line at the movies, buying curtains, walking dogs, while inside their hearts are ripping to shreds. For years. For their whole lives. I don’t believe time heals. I don’t want it to. If I heal, doesn’t that mean I’ve accepted the world without her?
I spend the rest of the afternoon trying to explain to her one of the very saddest notions in love and life: sometimes the timing is wrong—and sometimes you realize the heart of the matter way too late in the game.