Seventy.

I was mindlessly scrolling through a social media sight when I read the words. They said something about how not all soul mates are romantic- that maybe we all have a few in life and some are just friends, no matter the gender. This wasn’t a new thought to me. I’d heard it before and I agree with it- that we have more than one soul mate- those friends that you just connect to so deeply words can’t quite describe it.

But this time when I read it, images of these friends of mine flashed through my mind. I squeezed my eyes shut. I felt the urge to put my head in my hands and scream. I felt loneliness and sadness turn my heart inside out. My mind felt like it was exploding. Tears flooded my eyes because all of the images flashing through my mind were those friends who are dear enough to me to be considered soul mates, and yet… I’d lost them all.

I spent 70 hours this weekend by myself and I was perfectly content, and even happy, to be alone. It felt nice to hibernate a bit, away from the eyes and expectations of others. Away from their judgment and their criticisms. For 70 hours, I didn’t have to be…anything. I could just be. I could be content when I wanted. Depressed when I wanted. Productive when I wanted. Lazy when I wanted. I could just be me.

I told a friend I’d been in my house all weekend, basically just watching tv, and I could see the judgement on her face. I could hear it in her voice.

That’s not fair.

Because for 70 hours, I didn’t have any pressure. For 70 hours, I let myself set aside responsibility. I allowed myself to feel when I wanted and to block out emotion when I wanted. For 70 hours, I didn’t have to hide or be something else or fake emotions I wasn’t feeling.

I just… I wish people understood, you know?

And honestly? Screw them for not trying to understand.

At some point during that time, weight pressed down on me. I sat so my legs could give out. I leaned my head against the wall. And with tears in my eyes, I prayed, telling God how much I missed those friends that were soul mates to me. For just a moment, I dwelt in the absence of their presence. Alone, I didn’t have to hide my tears or the weakness I feel at times. And for a moment, I had the freedom to give into it.

And then I picked myself up and went on with my day. I picked myself up and continued in my 70 hours of peace and rest.

Don’t…. Don’t judge what you can’t understand. Because the pain of losing soul mates is real. And if someone needs to spend 70 hours by themselves to deal and heal that pain, let them. And if you’re worried about them… well, maybe you should be. But care for them. Care for what you don’t understand and seek understanding. But don’t judge what you can’t comprehend.

-Melissa

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