For Cathy on the topic of true love

Just like the image suggests, a face over the surface is what keeps the body under alive, the streams washing you away, along, someplace else. The idea of soulmates is old, like Symposium by Plato, where people originally had four legs and four arms and two heads. They were then seperated, and we're doomed to search for the other half to complete us. Almqvist speaks of the same in the dialogue between the doctors in The Queens Tiara, even though the point of that was more to illustrate the question of what human is. For what is human, and by illuminating the humanism, you eventually end up by the other question of what does a human need? A sense of purpose, a sense of belonging.

It's, to me at least, debatable if we really need a purpose at all, because the only purpose we have is to stay alive and wait, keeping our faces over the surface to see just how long we last. That kind of waiting can make you lonely, so of course there's a need to theorize what we should spend our time doing, what becomes valuable when there's really no need, nor purpose for staying afloat, whether or not you find that in a person that doesn't care if you put on pyjama pants the second you get home and let your hair get really dirty because "it's so good for your scalp". The need for such person is the same as wanting to be acceptable even in your lowest moments. To think that there could only be one such a person throughout that long walk of life makes the idea of soulmates and true love seem so small to me.

As long as you're willing to accept that human life has no higher purpose that be alive all the days you're living, just like a cat finding the only ray of sun on the floor in the entire house and twirling in it, you can also accept the idea of soulmates and unconditional love. There is no unconditional love in the way it's portayed in art. The sorrows of young Werther comes to mind, he suffered endlessly because he was fixated on a particular kind of love. Just becuase someone's willing to die for it doesn't make it right. Being able to bring life to one another during the time you share, short or long, and accepting yourself, with or without someone kissing you even when your bikiniline is out of control is way bigger than putting your eskoliven in someone else's breakfast bowl.