We could see nothing

Simon had heard the stories of incredible loves and people fated and meant for each other. Everyone has, at some point in history class or Greek mythology, these “pairs” have been told for centuries. At one point, a young and still hopeful Simon had believed in these partnerships, people who were constantly and undoubtedly devoted to each other. That needed each other the same way they needed oxygen. Pairs that screamed and cried and tore down cities and civilizations if they ever lost their love, their oxygen. Souls that tore themselves apart and drove themselves into the ground just to have a moment back with the other half of them. Of course, this hope was long lost to him, years of heartbreak and death tore down that hope like a cigarette butt to concrete. The very word “love” lost its meaning, its weight. It meant nothing more than a waste of air to him now. Hasty, stupid promises made by those who knew, deep down, that they couldn't keep them. A dirty, filthy lie told carelessly and constantly.Until.“He was half of my soul, as the poets say…”