I don’t believe in ghosts or soulmates

I don’t believe in soulmates in the same way I don’t believe in ghosts. I loudly proclaim their nonexistence because I choose to live my life avoiding the notion that I might run into one. Those unrealistic expectations and unnecessary paranoid thoughts are not welcome here, no thank-you. That being said, if one (soulmate, ghost, or ghost soulmate alike) happens to emerge from the mysteriously sealed door in my bedroom I will gladly reconsider my beliefs. Until then I will spend my quarantined days accompanied by boxed wine and my roommates. 

I may not be trapped with my soulmate or a ghost, however, I have felt like the luckiest quarantiner to be surrounded by the best roommates I could have asked for, including my best friend of 21 years.

Her and I have survived kissing the same boy, appearing unbearably weird to our peers, and now living together during a global pandemic. Our friendship is one of the things I am most proud of and I find myself talking about her the way a retired war veteran would talk about his wife of 50+ years. We may have not persevered through war but have lasted through the tortuous years of high school and an unforgiving puberty of braces and awkwardness. I wish there were a small story that perfectly encompassed our friendship but our memories are endless scatterings across my life. 

My tall, free-spirited, loving friend and I share so many of the same memories that she almost feels like an extension of myself. She taught me how to speak bravely and thrift passionately and cook creatively. She taught me how to write down my goals for grade 10 then burn them so they felt less scary. That winter day her mom came home to us running and shrieking outside in our swimsuits as we felt reborn as liberated women. She will always hug me hello and goodbye. She will always listen to my woes. She will always make me feel accepted for the person I am. We are at our best dancing in sweaty clubs and using our ‘boxing out’ basketball skills to fend off unwanted male attention. We are at our best sitting over a delightful pastry and chatting at an inappropriate volume. Heck - we are at our best wearing bright surgical gloves to match our face masks and navigating our way around the grocery store aisles. It seems even a global pandemic can be fun as long as we are together and fill our days dancing to empowering music, rewatching rom-com classics from the early 2000’s, and dreaming of our futures.
It often feels reminiscent of our small town summers when we had little to no stressors and endless time to share. Most days were spent sitting side by side on a dock, looking out at the lake, and thinking of all the directions our lives could go. Just two girls feeling entirely at the mercy of the waves and the world but thankful for yet another successful trip to the beach. We may have graduated from uncool, scared of boys high schoolers but we are still the same two weird dreamers - just slightly older and slightly wiser as we look out at our unknown futures from inside our shared basement suite.

Right now my tomorrows feel uncertain but I cannot complain about my todays. We can be found laughing louder than our landlord would like, arguing over if Chad Michael Murry is good-looking, and signing yet another year’s lease. Once again we have all the time in the world. I might even revisit my idea of what a soulmate is, do a quick Google search for a suitable definition, and check that sealed door in my bedroom in case ghosts do in fact exist.