I have such a deep loathing of this phrase that I have fantasies of stabbing Richard Bach (remember him? Jonathan Livingston Seagull and such) in the head with a fork. What the fuck, dude? Really? Of course, it’s not just his fault. I’ve learned from watching “The Millionaire Matchmaker” that this exists in Jewish lore, so maybe Bach was just distilling it for the Goyim in the world.
I think soul mates are for adults what Santa is for children, a dream and a fantasy. Only I find the soul mate issue far more damaging because it’s selling the dream that there is ONE person out there who, upon your meeting, you will recognize as your missing other half. The person who shares your deepest longings, and who, in their absence, you feel the cold harsh reality of life. Fuck. Seriously?
First, that’s one hell of a job description (disclosure: I don’t want it). After all, if you have to be someone’s EVERYTHING, when can you just chill? What about bad sex? What happens if you don’t like them anymore? How do you resolve problems? What do you do when your love throws his/her vote away on Nader? Don’t tell me this won’t happen. I’m old, but not so old that I’ve forgotten your declarations of “We’re soul mates!” “She’s/He’s the ONLY one for me.” “You wouldn’t understand our need to do everything together.” Ha. Yeah, that shit didn’t last, did it?
Second, I think it’s the job description of most stalkers. In fact, upon breakup, some of the soul mates in question did go all Mark David Chapman (slash) John Hinckley Jr. for a few months.
Finally, that job has already been filled by most people’s dogs. Truthfully, the only one with the time, care and loyalty to be completely, utterly, thoughtlessly devoted to you is your dog. Yes, the sex is off-limits (Most of the time. It really does depend on your relationship with your dog, and the laws in your state or country). However, by and large, if this is what you need, I’m sure you can find your soul mate at the shelter. I hear mutts make the best soul mates.