I used to believe that soulmates
were only romantic.
That they came with sparks
and slow dances
and hands intertwined under dim lights.

Then I met my best friend.

Her wild spirit.
Her reckless laugh.
Her uncanny way of always knowing what to do

when I’m upset,
when I’m crying,
when I need to be brought back to reality

because apparently setting the world on fire
is not an acceptable coping mechanism.

I love my best friend.
Not in a romantic, hidden-feelings type of way.
Not in a way that aches or longs.

But in a way that is steady.
Certain.
Unshakable.

In a
”I know I can count on her”
kind of way.

To be there for me on my darkest days.
But also in my loudest, brightest celebrations.

She didn’t leave when the sky clouded over
and I tried to push her away.
She didn’t flinch at the thunder
of my own overthinking.
She didn’t as I was crazy

When I needed a way out of a relationship.
She held my hand through the storm
and kept me from drowning.

So no,

soulmates don’t have to be romantic.
They can be platonic.
They can be the girl who shows up
with coffee and tough love.

They can be the one who reminds you who you are
When you forget.

They can arrive quietly,
without violins,
without fireworks.
And somehow still change your life
just the same.

I haven’t found my romantic soulmate yet, but I’m lucky to have found my platonic one