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I don't think the term "soul mate" is dumb per se. I do think it's overused. I don't like using the term "soul mate". I guess the term I use is "the one". What I mean by that term is I ask myself if anyone could ever make me happier in life? Can I envision anyone being a better wife? Or better mother to my kids?
On all questions with me the answer comes to no I can't envision finding anyone that could do a better job. When I look at my wife I do honestly and genuinely believe I found "the one".
I feel fortunate because many people will go through life never finding "the one". Many of my friends are married but not really happily. Most days I wake up and feel like the luckiest guy in the world.
I feel fortunate because many people will go through life never finding "the one". Many of my friends are married but not really happily. Most days I wake up and feel like the luckiest guy in the world.
I have been in love many times and it usually wears off. I read several articles that state the head over heels feelings of love do not last. This is why you hear of people who are married managing to have affairs and yet stay married. They choose the spouse who they can easily live with, day after day. A person with similar tastes and a good temperament.
I got married in my fifties to a great guy. I am more than happy with him, and he says he is the same with me. I think if I had married any of my 'great loves' that I had when I was younger it would have been a tragedy.
The thing is, I never thought of marriage as a goal in life. If it happened, fine, and if not, I had a pretty decent life without it.
I have been in love many times and it usually wears off. I read several articles that state the head over heels feelings of love do not last. This is why you hear of people who are married managing to have affairs and yet stay married. They choose the spouse who they can easily live with, day after day. A person with similar tastes and a good temperament.
I got married in my fifties to a great guy. I am more than happy with him, and he says he is the same with me. I think if I had married any of my 'great loves' that I had when I was younger it would have been a tragedy.
The thing is, I never thought of marriage as a goal in life. If it happened, fine, and if not, I had a pretty decent life without it.
Well I would agree with the articles that say the "butterflies in the stomach" crazy love doesn't exist after many years for the majority of the people out there. I have met some people that claim that they still feel the same way about their SO after many years.
Back when I was younger, and dated a LOT. I mistakenly thought that I had to find someone that I'd have the butterflies in the stomach in love feeling after many years. Here's the rub. I think after several years you just get accustomed to your significant other and while you may love them with all your heart...you just might not get the "butterflies" like when you first met them.
I think that is normal and natural not to have the same infatuation as the first few years. I'm one of those people that doesn't think there is anything wrong with the "honeymoon period" kind of wearing off after many years. Not to say you have to have an affair or anything of the sort. But I think many people don't admit that it's normal for the lovey dovey feelings to subside a bit after many years.
I see a lot of marriages break up because one of the spouses says something silly like, "I just don't have the butterflies in my stomach in love feeling when I wake up to you each day". LOL. I think those people are a bit deluded if they expect to have that same feeling as when they first met.
Well first off your "soul mate" does not have to be your lover or your wife. The two do not connect. What does is this other person and you just click, you have a lot in common and when I say that I mean you think about the same things. It could almost be like the relationship between twins.
I have had several Soul mates over the years, did I marry any of them , no I did not. I am sure that would have been a disaster ! I also think relationships do wear out, with time. Being a romantic at heart makes things all the more difficult , when after 35 years you are not " in love" anymore, maybe you never were? It is sad, having a perty good life with the third wife all those years, and now feel stuck in a relationship you would like to change, but won't.
I have had several Soul mates over the years, did I marry any of them , no I did not.
Back in the day I had two soul mates, which led me to conclude that where there were two, there might be three or four or maybe a dozen and oh how I enjoyed the search. Such were the carefree (and aids-worry free) days of the seventies.
Eventually I encountered biscuitpop who wasn't then and isn't now a soul mate but this year we've been together for 36 years, most but not all of them happy. The bumps in his head fit the holes in mine so it works. He's the practical pig, I'm the starry-eyed hippie, together we just work, I wouldn't trade him for a soul mate.
I was 43 and he was 46 when we had our first date after several years of being acquainted with one another. The evening of our date, he rang the bell, I opened the door, saw him standing where and when he wasn't supposed to be – aside from being early, he didn't announce his arrival at the gate of my complex and waited for me there as I expected, instead, he simply showed up at my doorstep. I uttered a mild curse (is "sh**" a mild curse?), then slammed the door, leaving him on the wrong side of it. I was just out of the shower, my hair was sopping wet, my face had not one lick of lotion on, I wasn't quite dressed, couldn't find my boots, and wouldn't be ready for at least another 20 minutes. That's how long it took before I opened the door again. He didn't say anything about my rudeness and I didn't offer an apology.
What happened at the date? We had a good meal, walked from one end of the beach in his hometown to another end, I ruined my best pair of socks in the wave, lost a $1 bet to him, drank a huge bowl (yes, bowl, not cup) of cappuccino that literally kept me awake for the subsequent 36 hours. That evening ended up to be the best 4 hours I had spent in anyone's company for many decades.
We dated regularly after that, with no more cursing or slamming door from me.
A few months later, in Portsmouth Square in San Francisco, I was suddenly hit by an overwhelming sense of happiness despite a very painful ankle (the result of a fall off a ladder a few weeks earlier) and despite being surrounded by at least a dozen unhealthy and very odorous homeless people. I felt as if life finally made sense and there wasn't a thing I couldn't handle from then on. The feeling was unlike anything I had ever experienced before, I could feel it expanding inside my chest and flowing out from the pores of my skin. I looked up from the bench where my ankle rested and saw him walking toward me. I knew then I had found whatever it was that I didn't even knew I missed.
We didn't and still don't live in SF, but we visited it at least half a dozen times every year since then, and we held our wedding there, in the city where I didn't leave my heart, but found it.
I don't know whether he's my soul mate, but I know he's my love, and I'm his, although over the years, there have been many a time when nothing would please me more than being able to kick him in the shin. Hard. I never did, but I thought about it once or twice a year and rarely felt guilty for the thoughts.
Would I marry him again if I knew what I know now? You betcha. I don't think there would be another man out there who would support me on all my endeavours and who would do everything in his power to help making all my desire and dreams a reality, especially at the sacrifice of his comfort. That alone was the reason I had never gone through with the impulse of kicking him in the shin, even when he drove me bonkers.
Oh, and after all those years and at our sort of advance ages, he still says "I love you" just before he goes to bed/falls to sleep every night. It's hard for me to be upset at him when I hear those words, though I would never let him know.
Last edited by Ol' Wanderer; 06-01-2013 at 03:29 AM..
I was 43 and he was 46 when we had our first date after several years of being acquainted with one another. The evening of our date, he rang the bell, I opened the door, saw him standing where he wasn't supposed to be – aside from being early, he didn't announce his arrival at the gate of my complex and waited for me there as I expected, instead, he simply showed up at the doorstep. I uttered a mild curse (is "sh**" a mild curse?), then slammed the door, leaving him on the wrong side of it. I was just out of the shower, my hair was sopping wet, my face had not one lick of lotion on, I wasn't quite dressed, couldn't find my boots, and wouldn't be ready for at least another 20 minutes. That's how long it took before I opened the door again. He didn't say anything about my rudeness and I didn't offer an apology.
What happened at the date? We had a good meal, walked from one end of the beach in his hometown to another end, I ruined my best pair of socks in the wave, lost a $1 bet to him, drank a huge bowl (yes, bowl, not cup) of cappuccino that literally kept me awake for the subsequent 36 hours. That evening ended up to be the best 4 hours I had spent in anyone's company for many decades.
We dated regularly after that, with no more cursing or slamming door from me.
A few months later, in Portsmouth Square in San Francisco, I was suddenly hit by an overwhelming sense of happiness despite a very painful ankle (the result of a fall off a ladder a few weeks earlier) and despite being surrounded by at least a dozen of very unhealthy and odorous homeless people. I felt as if life finally made sense and there wasn't a thing I couldn't handle from then on. The feeling was unlike anything I had ever experienced before, I felt it expanding from inside my chest and flowing out from the pores of my skin. I looked up from the bench where my ankle rested and saw him walking toward me. I knew then I had found whatever it was that I didn't even knew I missed.
We didn't and still don’t live in SF, but we visited it at least half a dozen times every year since then, and our wedding was held there, in the city where I didn't leave my heart, but found it.
I don't know whether he's my soul mate, but I know he's my love, and I'm his, although over the years, there have been many a time when nothing would please me more than being able to kick him in the shin. Hard. I never did, but I thought about it once or twice a year and rarely felt guilty at the thought.
Would I marry him again if I knew what I know now? You betcha. I don't think there would be another man out there who would support me on all my endeavours and who would do everything in his power to help making all my desire and dreams a reality. That alone was the reason I had never gone through with the impulse of kicking him in the shin, even when he drove me bonkers.
Oh, and after all those years and at our sort of advance ages, he still says "I love you" just before he goes to bed/falls to sleep every night.
Fun story!!
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