A/N: I really don't know where this came from, but I went with it. Feed-back would be greatly appreciated. This is rated mostly for language, and it is slash. Not graphic slash, but slash. Don't like, don't read. Thanks!
Soul Mate: (n) Someone with whom one has a special, almost spiritual connection.
In fairytales the princess never marries the prince if she doesn't want to. But she always does. Because the prince and the princess exchange one look and are hopelessly lost in the deep fathoms of their partner's (insert color here) eyes. Love at first sight.
In fairytales, in stories, in legends of all kinds so-and-so is this person's soul mate and, though it make take them a while to realize that they are soul mates, eventually they do and they live happily ever after. As if being bound to one person—your "perfect" match and all that shit—for the rest of your life automatically means that you'll dwell together in eternal happiness for the rest of your life.
Fuck fairy tales.
They don't know a goddamn thing about soul mates.
I wish someone would explain to me why everyone seems to think that soul mates are the greatest form of true love ever. Being bound to someone for the rest of your life. Being unable to close your eyes without seeing them pop up in your mind. Having them invade your dreams, dance through your thoughts, imagine their hands running all over your body.
Maybe that would be a good thing, if the person was someone that you loved. But being bound to someone and loving someone are two different things.
Trust me, I know.
Sometimes I wonder when it was that I realized.
It was probably the night of the first dream, the night where I woke in the darkness, sweating and shivering at the same time, still feeling his thin fingers roaming across my flesh, his thin lips sucking and biting. Seeing his red eyes.
I'd had dreams about him before. Nightmares. Not erotic dreams.
It's not normal to fantasize about your enemy.
It's not normal to obsess over him.
Not that I've ever been particularly normal, but this was odder than even my abnormality.
I learned a long time ago that, when magic is involved, anything is possible. Even soul mates.
I'm living proof.
A bond between soul mates is supposed to be loving and warm, the kind of thing that anyone would embrace, that anyone would love to have. Just another fairytale.
Here's the reality of my soul mate bond: cruel and dark and twisted; just as mangled as my soul mate himself.
I didn't choose to be bonded. I didn't choose my soul mate. I wouldn't have if given the choice.
Here's the reality of Harry Potter: Tom Riddle is his soul mate.
In a twist of fate the one prophesied to kill the Dark Lord cannot.
Because the Dark Lord is his other half.
Neither can live while the other survives.
Neither can live while the other dies.
Fuck fairytales and prophecies.
Fuck soul mates.
I cannot live with him.
I cannot live without him.
I'm screwed either way.