Why don’t I believe in soul mates? It’s simple: logic.
There are over six billion people on the planet. Let’s assume, for a moment, yours didn’t die from abortion or miscarriage.
We must choose to believe he or she wasn’t born in the thousands of years of human history prior to your existence, and that he or she won’t be an infant when you are in the nursing home.
Let’s further assume he or she wasn’t orphaned in the wilderness of Siberia or in a small tribal community in Africa or in a poverty-stricken town in South America with no hope of ever seeing an airplane, let alone boarding one to fly to you.
Let’s continue on our hopeful guesses that your soul mate was properly vaccinated and survived the multitude of deadly diseases that kill millions of children every year, including polio, measles, malaria, AIDS, and the flu. The lucky duck also theoretically survived starvation, dysentery, child abuse, parasites, neglect, natural disasters, freakishly uncommon accidents, and war.
Still with me? Your soul mate would then have to sift through the six billion needles that make up the haystack of humanity in order to meet you; this meeting must be a memorable experience for both people (not just passing them on the highway or walking by them in a giant amusement park or making eye contact at a rock concert). Don’t even pretend it is somebody who grew up next door — how likely is that?! Realistically, how likely is it that your soul mate lives on your continent, let alone in your neighborhood?
You both must recognize the other as being your “soul mate,” as otherwise it is just considered stalking. Your ages and behaviors must be appropriately suited for a match in whichever society you choose to live – how unfortunate if you choose to live in America and one of you is twelve and the other is forty-two or if one of you is married already or is a priest.
Finally, if you have managed to overcome all the other obstacles, you have to be lucky enough to have a soul mate in the sex of your preference. The obvious proverbial nail in the coffin to any “soul mate” experience is the unfortunate circumstance of one being gay and the other straight — cue the eternity of longing, pain, and obsession. And, in the long run, it would be just as miserable if you had a soul mate who is your best friend rather than your spouse. If, for example, my soul mate was a woman with whom I completely meshed and related to and felt I couldn’t live without, I would, in essence, be doomed in marriage: I can’t expect it to last if I love my bestie more than my husband! Would your true soul mate want this — being the cause of strife and misery in one of your deep and meaningful relationships?
So, forget the idea of “soul mates” and find somebody with whom you can be happy and laugh, then call it a day.
The prosecution rests.
One final thing: looking at this litany of reasons that love is so hard to come by makes me appreciate finding my husband more than ever. If anyone ever had a soul mate, he would be mine.