The origin of love. I thought it was lovely, the first time I heard that story. The idea that we had all been cut down the middle eons ago and that all we had to do was find our other halves, the missing pieces of our souls and we would be complete.

I spent years searching for my other half. From drunken fumbles in bars that led to early walks home, head pounding with a mixture of hangover and shame, to the longer lasting, more emotional connections that ripped my heart out when they ended. I looked, but I never found the One. The person that would complete me.

Then I met you. It wasn’t roses and fireworks or any other of the things that one is supposed to experience when they have an epiphany. It was a slow process, one that I barely noticed. You encouraged me and you supported me and one day, when I was looking elsewhere, you made me look into the mirror and I saw it there. I didn’t need to look for my other half. She has been there, inside of me, the whole time. I just needed someone to open my eyes.

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