Everyone is familiar with the idea of a soulmate, someone meant for you, your perfect match. The missing piece of you that exists out there, off in the world, just waiting to cross your path. The idea is touching, and viewed as a little naive by most people. After all, true relationships are built on hard work and dedication, not false promises of perfection.
I met my soulmate when I was a young adult, overcome with a strange sense of being watched one night when I was out on a walk. Although I lived on a street filled with houses and life, at that hour, you'd think it was a ghost town. The perfect way to clear your thoughts, and take in the outside world without the buzz of kids and cars.
The feeling that washed over me wasn't the same kind of fear inducing sense of being watched, it was more like a strange sense of knowing.
Except the street, aside from me, was empty for as far as I could see or hear. There was not a moment in which I had passed someone by, or heard the tell-tale scuff of shoes on pavement that told me someone else couldn't sleep. It was dead quiet.
I chalked it up to sleep deprivation, but allowed my pace to pick up as I started back down towards my home. I want to preface this with self awareness by saying I'd always been open minded to the idea of there being more out there. Aliens, cryptids, the paranormal, anything that could be possible, was potentially possible in my mind.
That's not to say I was a firm believer in these things. On the contrary, I've always been logical as can be, like anyone else this day and age. There was always the thought in the back of my mind that we can't quite disprove life after death, or aliens existing out there, or even a cryptid or two staying isolated from us.
I also want to admit that I've always been an avid horror fan, with a particular small hope that something terrifyingly exciting would happen to me just once in my life.
But as we all know, you have to be careful what you wish for.
Just as the feeling of being watched, if not stalked completely at this point became suffocating, I heard him. Rather, his shoes, scuffing the pavement behind me as he jogged along to catch up to me. My back was turned to him, and I kept my eyes ahead to avoid looking paranoid. The hairs on the back of my neck were standing up, goosebumps pricked up on my skin.
I felt a hand on my shoulder, a strong grip and determined fingers gently digging in with a sense of urgency.
"I don't want to scare you, but there's something in the bushes that's been following you down the street for the last twenty minutes." His voice was a bit labored, and he lacked any sense of tiredness. If I had to guess, he might've been riding a wave of adrenaline that had come on suddenly.
That in itself alarmed me. All evidence suggested he must've just come from his home, one of the ones on the street, in quite a rush to warn me about my situation. Still, I could hardly find words.
"Excuse me?" Was my voice always that small? "Someone's following me?"
By now I was facing him. He was taller than me, not hard to do, considering I'm a young adult man standing so dashingly tall at 5' 6. He was considerably taller, though, maybe even an entire foot. It was hard to make out his features, but I could tell he was handsome even in the dim streetlight glow.
His eyes were the loveliest shade of green.
"Not someone, something," the stranger clarified, casting a tentative glance to the bushes across the street as if to prove a point. I swallowed, my stomach dropped with anxiety and I could feel myself tense up.
There were a million questions to ask, that I should have asked, but at the time only one went through my head.
"But I live over there, how do I get home?" My voice was a whisper, I realized. Without deciding whether I really believed this man, I found myself worried about alerting this mysterious thing that was apparently fascinated with me.
In hindsight, one might wonder whether or not he made it up just to talk to me. That's what I believed when I had time to calm down, but right then and there, my panic was starting to take hold. Just how would I make it home if I had to cross the street, where this thing was currently hiding right now?
The stranger smiled, warm and brave. It was gentle, promising that all would be well without words.
"I'll walk with you. Everyone knows about safety in groups, right?" He offered a hand, guiding me further down towards the crosswalk and occasionally peering behind us and back at the foliage. "I'm Rider, by the way. I'm sorry if I scared you. I woke up to use the restroom and I saw you walking down the street by yourself."
"Elias," was all I could manage. I was far too busy trying not to look behind us, even though my terrible curiosity wanted me to.
"I know it sounds weird, okay? I thought I was seeing things at first, and then when I saw it run across the street when you were under the lights again, I realized I wasn't," Rider continued, gently nudging me along the sidewalk and blocking my view of the path behind us with his body.
The rest of the short walk was silent, we were both listening out for whatever he'd seen and on our toes. But we made it just fine, and I never saw nor heard a single thing out of the ordinary. As I fumbled to unlock the door of my home, I felt sadness wash over me.
It wasn't my own. It was foreign, alien.
Rider saw my hesitation and gave me another charming smile, filling me with the courage to start thinking for myself long enough to all but throw the door open. The poor cat was scared half to death when it hit the wall with a loud smack, staring up at us with wide eyes. All things considered, the disgruntled cat was a welcome sight.
"Well, you're home, safe and sound," my savior chuckled, keeping a respectful distance outside the door. I was thankful for that, I'd always been socially anxious and the idea of having to kick him out after he helped me was not a good one.
"Yeah, I sure am. Ah, thanks, for walking with me," I murmured. Compared to Rider's confident cadence, I sounded like a ghost who didn't want to be seen.
Without missing a beat, Rider offered me his number and warned me against walking alone at night for various reasons.
"Especially here," he added, as casual as someone discussing their day. "He got pretty close to you before you reached the lights."
At the time, I thought nothing of that comment beyond Rider explaining what he saw.
After that night, my life became a lot more exciting than I asked for. For one, Rider and I became very close very quickly. Never in my life had anyone ever paid me any attention, cared about what I had to say or given me much of a second thought. Until I met Rider. Where I was appallingly, undeniably and painfully average and routine, Rider was adventurous, exciting and handsome to boot.
