There is something so powerful about looking into someone else’s eyes and knowing that you hold so much control over them. You can take their heart and wrench it apart, pull it to pieces, and watch as they slowly fade into shadow, half-beings that must find someone more than whole to fix them. You can give them the purest of joy simply with a smile, a kiss, a gentle touch on the cheek. It is this power that can affect the lowliest and even kings or presidents. We are helpless against the one who holds this power over us. And yet, we trust.
In the best of situations, the person who holds you helpless in the palm of their hands is held helpless in yours. You cannot hurt them because anything they feel, you feel. It is beautiful, dangerous, ecstasy, and innocence. It is everything, you know there is nothing that you could ever trust or believe in more, but there is a lingering of doubt in the back – something of self-preservation, one would say. But when this sliver of doubt is overshadowed completely by the trust, by both involved – that, my dear companion, is the truest love. That feeling of finding one who you cannot willingly hurt, one whose feelings resonate with your very being, cannot be compared. You find yourselves steeped in power, but have not the heart to use it, simply content in quiet happiness and passionate, loving embrace. That, reader, is a soul mate.
