The other half?

Do we spend our lives searching for our other half? What if we don't have an other half? I firmly believe in soulmates, that some people are just destined to be together, regardless, but what about us unfortunates without a fated partner? What do we do? Stand around as eternal wallflowers? These thoughts have been in my consciousness, because, quite by coincidence, I twice ran into that story from Aristophanes, from Plato's Symposium, about how all people were once male/male, female/female, male/female; that is, everyone was once two people in one, and how one day, a cruel god sliced everyone in half. So, for the rest of our days, we have to run around, trying desperately to reunite ourselves. I don't buy it. Some people are just meant to be alone. We are the...shall I say the unlucky or lucky ones? We spend our lives in solitary confinement, self-imposed prisons of our own prejudices, vices and idiosyncracies. All the little habits we refuse to give up for anyone. Our petulance. Our ability to sulk at the drop of a hat. Our quiet, simmering rage. Our incapacity to trust, to feel empathy, to forget. Our way of always looking at things skewed, to always see the dark lining of the cloud. These little things that if we could just tweak, we could actually let someone into our lives. Someone sweet, who takes you out to temples and buys you noodles and messages you all the time, even though you refuse to answer or take their calls. Yet...yet...we can't. Cannot. Flat-out refuse. We are alone, but not lonely. Yes, sometimes we wonder, what it's like to be one half of a whole. Does it feel different? Does it feel safer? Warmer? We're pretty secure here, by ourselves, complete, but still, we can't help but wonder. And of course, by "we", I mean "me".

Final thought: I never thought I was missing anything until I met you and once I did, and you left, and I felt the void, I blamed you and wished I'd never known you. Instead of feeling thankful that I was shown what I was missing, instead, I felt cheated because I touched love and it burned me. And that made me angry.