With Love, Celine

With Love, Celine “Everyone is born with a word or short sentence on their left forearm. It signifies the first thing your soulmate will say to you when you meet. You won’t know the time or the place, but it’s a magical moment. Sparks are felt and the magic begins. It could last a lifetime. Sometimes, however, someone is born without a soulmate, but it is extremely rare. About 1% of people will come into the world Unmated. The unlucky few will still be born with the marks. Unfortunately, though, their marks will mean nothing. They will meet their supposed soulmate, but instead of magic when their eyes meet, they feel the pain of heartbreak. Soon after, the words on their forearm will turn grey. Another phenomenon is even less than 1% of those deemed Unmated will stumble across a mate. Their old words will be replaced with a new set of words, and they will be newly classified as Mated. Scientists have been trying to understand why this happens to some, but with very limited success. Aside from being largely unsuccessful with figuring out why people can be born under the Unmated classification, there have only ever been two known cases of classified Unmated to Mated. Scientists are unable to understand the reason for this. As far as the Unmated go, most never recover from the pain, either resorting to illicit substances to cope or even going as far as suicide. The few that do usually dedicate their lives to helping others that were born like them or who have tragically lost their soulmates.” I reread the post and sent it for review. I titled it “The Unmated: A Tragic Being”. The title needs work, but I’m hoping that when it comes back for last minute revisions, I’d have a better title.  I’m Celine and I’m a freelance writer that specializes in love and romance. It’s the perfect job for me seeing as I’m a hopeless romantic. I also run a successful blog and i********: titled “With Love, Celine” or @withlove_celine and it’s been a wild but fun ride.  Every Friday I publish a story about a Mated couple and how they met. I receive COUNTLESS submissions from my readers, and I love reading each one of them. I’ve even received a few from the Unmated, though I don’t publish them. I think they send them because misery loves company. I explicitly ask for stories from the Mated, but they want me to have a section highlighting their struggle. My blog’s focus is love and light and I want to keep it that way. Besides, the stories from the Unmated are tragic and painful to read. However, I did use them to help me write my recent piece.  About two weeks ago, I was asked to write a blog post highlighting the phenomenon that is the Unmated for “Our Stories” which is a blog that’s quickly growing in popularity. I did a quick skim of the page before I decided to take on the job. Their focus is mainly on telling real and raw stories from everyday people. The owner of the blog, Kit, doesn’t care for what I publish, saying it’s not much of a representation of what the world is. She’s Unmated, though, so I’m not surprised she’d say something like that. My blog IS a representation of the real world. The number of Mated outweighs the number of Unmated by leaps and bounds. Nevertheless, she liked my style of writing and offered me a pretty penny to do it. So of course, I jumped at the chance.  I walked to my small kitchen to fill my pink and purple ombre emotional support water bottle before I headed to my room. I flicked on my small bedside lamp and pulled my sheets back. I had a long day of sitting at my desk working and I’m exhausted. Reading those stories really drains me because they are so emotional. I’m glad I never have to experience that. Well, I assume I don’t. I have yet to meet my soulmate, but I know I’ll be one of the Mated. The odds of being Unmated are so slim that I can’t be anything but Mated. And the words on my forearm are just as romantic as I am. Excuse me, ma’am. You left this. Okay so they’re not very romantic, but that doesn’t matter. I’m already in love. I stare at them dreamily every moment I could. I imagine my soulmate and I will come into contact during a random meet-cute moment. Maybe we accidently bumping into each other while rushing to wherever we must be. Maybe I leave a pen, or an important piece of paper and he picks it up and runs after me shouting “Excuse me, ma’am! You left this.” When our eyes meet, I’ll feel that sudden spark of electricity. My love! I’ve been waiting for you for 30 years! That moment can’t come fast enough! I slip under the crisp and cool sheets, beginning to scroll through my i********: feed. I wanted to see if I had any important DMs. Sometimes I get a random one here and there. Once I established that there were none, I set the phone on the nightstand and turned the lamp off. I fall into a blissful slumber, dreaming of my soulmate. The next day I was woken up by my phone alarm. Softly stirring from my deep slumber, I groan. I got up and walked to my little bathroom and stared at my reflection.  My dark brown hair was propped up in a messy bun. I had sleep crusties in the corners or my eyes, crusted drool on the side of my mouth, and my face was swollen from sleep.  “I woke up like this,” I sang quietly to myself, smiling. My soulmate would love me in the morning.  I shook my head and began to wash up. After finishing my morning routine, I stared at my reflection again. “I need some coffee,” I quietly muttered to myself.  I walked to my chest of drawers, pulling out a pair of purple sweatpants and a white sleeveless crop top. It was Saturday, but I must respond to emails and edit some articles. I couldn’t do that without starting my day off right. With coffee. I walked down the hall to my kitchen and decided to make myself an iced vanilla brown sugar latte. I was so glad I wrote down the recipe from my barista friend at The Cozy Corner. It’s not quite the same, but it does the trick.   I pulled out the necessary ingredients and attempt to start the machine. *whirrrrr* “Huh?”  My coffee maker made one last ditch effort to splutter to life, but soon after, it died.  “Are you serious?” I yelled. Old Faithful finally kicked the proverbial bucket. Looks like I need a new coffee maker. In the meantime, I needed coffee right now.  Sighing, I walked back to my bedroom and put on a pair of Vans and a sweater. It’s a little chilly now seeing as it’s Fall. Yes, I drink iced coffee at any time of the year. No judging!  I grabbed my purse and keys as I walked toward the front door annoyed. I had too much work to do to leave my house for any little thing, but I need coffee so off to The Cozy Corner I went. Luckily it was a short walk down the street from my brownstone. I stepped outside into the crisp autumn air and smiled. My favorite season. There’s so much you can do with your love. I have a list of fun things I can do with my soulmate once we meet. First on that list is apple picking.  All giddy, I enter the warm café and smiled to myself. As annoyed as I was at the fact that Linda decided today was the day to suddenly pass away, the thought of spending quality time with my unnamed soulmate lifted my spirits. That and the warm smell of coffee coupled with the enticing scent of freshly baked pastries always did something to me. I walk over to the counter and order an iced vanilla brown sugar latte with oat milk and cinnamon with a blueberry scone for good measure. I paid and stood off to the side to wait for my order. I opened i********: and scrolled, answering some DMs, and overall getting lost in the messages. “Celine!” I jumped at hearing my name. My goodness I was out of it. I walk to the counter, place my phone down and grab my drink and pastry. After collecting a couple of napkins, I left. I was halfway down the street when I heard him. “Excuse me, ma’am. You left this,” a male voice exclaimed. My heart fluttered when I realized what I just heard. Oh my God! This is it! It’s the moment I’ve been waiting for my entire life! I’m finally going to join the Mated!  “Oh my God. You’re my soulmate,” I said, just loud enough for the mystery man to hear. I turned around and saw the most beautiful man I’d ever laid eyes on. He had fluffy brown hair and dark brown eyes. His sun kissed skin was the color of liquid gold and he had a shy smile that was just too cute for words. As soon as those beautiful eyes met mine, however, I became dizzy. I stumbled and clutched my chest. The man caught me and held me up. “No…” I whispered. I knew what this was. The overwhelming feeling of loss flooded my body. I looked back up into his eyes and he held a look of concern and sadness. “I-,” he hesitated. Sighing softly, he spoke. “Um. You left your phone on the counter, miss,” he said as he held me up.  For a moment, I just stared into his eyes. I didn’t want to move because I couldn’t believe what was happening. I eventually steadied myself and grabbed my phone, thanking him for bringing it to me. He gave me a sad smile, “You’re welcome. Um…take care.” And with that, he turned around and walked away and out of my life. I looked at the words on my arm. Instead of the black that they once were, they were greyed out.  I walked home in a daze, too numb at the events that just unfolded.  I didn’t even bother to put my items down before I broke down. Sobs racked my body as I mourned love lost. I was looking forward to the moment I met my soulmate. When I heard him say the words I’ve obsessed over for most of my life, I was elated. The moment I laid eyes on him was magical. That is, until our eyes met.  I feel as though my world has shattered. My heart was so broken. I’m only 30 years old. How am I supposed to live the rest of my life Unmated? What am I going to tell my family? My friends? My subscribers and followers?  I sobbed even harder when I thought of everything I just lost in a few short moments.  “What am I going to do?” My entire being was filled with dread, sorrow, and despair. I feel sick to my stomach. All I wanted to do was lock myself in my house and cry myself to death. That wasn’t an option, though.  I finally calmed down and got up from the floor. Forgetting about my coffee and scone, I walked to my office and opened my laptop. Still feeling as though I’d been betrayed by who I loved the most, I opened my emails. The first one I saw was from the editor at “Our Stories” and I felt a tug at my heart.  Celine, Thank you for writing such an exquisite article. The amount of time and attention to detail is astounding. I know we have our differences, but I knew you’d pull through. All that needs updating is the title. Once that’s done, send me the finished draft and I will publish it. I’d like to have it by Monday evening.  I plan to commission you again in the future. Best, Kit I responded, thanking her for the compliment and letting her know that I would love to be commissioned again. More money, right? At least something good happened today. I closed my laptop and dragged myself to my room, crawling into bed. I knew there was no way I’d do work today. I felt exhausted and it wasn’t even noon, but crying does that to you. I know I’ll be okay, but right now? Right now, I’m not.  I drifted off to sleep, and for the first time, I dreamt of nothing.