In Your Dreams // phan

f o r t y

School was hard. School's always hard, but it's even more difficult on one of my bad days. Ordinarily I would have stayed home on a day like this. But I had to stop skipping school just because I didn't feel like going. Plus, I didn't really want to deal with my parents.

They've probably already left for work by now and aren't even there at the moment, but home reminded me of them anyway. And I didn't want to be reminded of them. I was still a little wounded.

It's not like a terrible secret. It was just a secret. A secret that didn't have to be kept secret, at least from me. And that hurt. But I suppose it was largely my fault as well. Maybe if I had been a better son, if I talked to them more, opened up to them more, they would have extended the same courtesy to me. Everyone took a little bit of the blame in this situation.

But I was still upset, nonetheless, because I really needed their advice. I was so lost in this whole soulmate thing. I didn't know what I was doing and it was moving so fast and I just... I needed help.

You know the situation's dire when I actually pluck up the courage to socialise with someone. And that's exactly what I managed to do during study hall that day.

After almost half an hour of me steeling my nerves and attempting to choke back the rising anxiety, I picked up my bag and made my way over to her table. It didn't look like she was doing any work. Bright pink headphones matching the colour of her dip dyed hair trailed from her ears as she absent-mindedly drew stars on her forearm.

She jumped slightly when her eyes casually flicked up and she saw me sat directly opposite her, just watching her draw. She ripped the headphones out of her ears. "Jesus Christ, Dan! You scared the hell out of me!"

"Sorry, I didn't mean to," I mumbled embarrassed. I was a little flustered that she remembered me. We hadn't really spoken a word to each other since year 8? Year 9? But then again, a lot of people knew who I was. They didn't know me per say, but they'd heard stories.

And a lot people knew who she was. She was Louise: the girl who grew up next door to her soulmate. It was a better title than the one I had, which was Dan: the boy who cries a lot and rarely shows up to school.

"What can I do for you?" Louise asked gently. She must have noticed that I was lost for words. She must have noticed how my hands shook. She must have noticed how uneven my breathing was. Because she smiled encouragingly at me, a dash of sympathy laced with it.

I swallowed nervously before answering. "I wanted to talk to you about soulmates... if that's okay." Her smile wavered slightly and her eyes darkened. Why did no one want to talk about soulmates? She didn't answer straight away and I got up to leave. "I'm sorry. That's personal. I shouldn't have asked," I rambled quickly. It was a stupid idea anyway.

Louise reached out to grab my arm and stop me from going. "No, no. It's okay. Really. I just don't think I'm the best person to go to for advice."

Well she was the only person I could go to for advice, and by default that made her the best. Or I suppose there was Adam. But I hated that guy.

"Why not? You've known your soulmate your whole life?" I asked, curiosity guiding me back to my seat.

"I know. So you think we'd be head over heels in love. We've had years to get to know each other, thousands of dreams to grow to love each other. But to be honest? I think Matt and I are better as friends."

I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion. That's not how it works. You love your soulmate. You marry your soulmate. You're not just friends with your soulmate.

Louise must have noticed my expression. "What? It's not a law that you have to love your soulmate. A soulmate's just your best match, it doesn't mean you automatically love them. That's a whole other thing."

I was dumbfounded by her words and the surety with which she spoke them. "I suppose it is," I muttered, not really talking to Louise but to myself. Love and soulmates; they were two different things. They weren't so intertwined as I thought they were. I was quickly discovering that it was not only possible, but seemingly normal, to have one and not the other.

"You've found your soulmate, haven't you? Phil Lester, right?" Louise asked.

I nodded, my mind still elsewhere. Distracted by its own thoughts. "Do you love each other?" she continued. There it was. The question that I was seeking an answer to.

"I think so?" I replied uncertainly.

Louise chuckled. "You sound so sure of yourself."

"It's just... I don't know. I know I love him. But... I don't know if he loves me. He says he does, but I was just wondering if..." I trailed off not really sure where I was going with it anymore. I wasn't sure where I was going with anything. Where was my mind at? And why was it so difficult to form complete thoughts?

"He loves you for you, or if it's just because you're his soulmate?" And that was it. That was my thoughts perfectly verbalised. I nodded.

"He keeps talking about getting married and spending our lives together and I just can't help thinking that if I weren't his soulmate, he wouldn't be saying those things," I said quietly. "If you haven't noticed, I'm not the easiest person to love."

Louise pouted and reached for my hand in a very mother like manner. I flinched at the sudden contact, but I let her go ahead anyway.

"I'm sure that's not true. Look, you don't have to marry him. No one's forcing you to. And no one's forcing him to either. We're not pre-programmed to love our soulmates. That part's determined by us."

This was what I wanted. This was the kind of advice I was after. And it was even delivered to me in an eloquently worded parcel. "Thanks for the wisdom, Confucius," I smirked at her.

She beamed at me. "Did I do good? Was that the sentimental rubbish you needed to hear?" she asked playfully.

"Yes, actually," I answered with sincerity. "It was."