According to some mythology, we are all half of a person. Our other half was lost to us at birth and hidden somewhere on this lonely planet. We spend our lives looking for this other half, this soulmate, so that we can finally become one whole being.
I knew she was my half the first time I saw her. She was more than beautiful. She was perfect in every way. She was everything I wanted and all I needed.
All I have left of her is a faded photo. It's creased and battered, but I can still see her face. She's smiling at me and I smile back. I'll see her quite soon.
.....I wrote this quite a while back and now have no idea where I was going, so I'm going to leave it as is and if the idea comes back I'll finish.
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