The other half

Ever have the feeling that there’s something missing within you? Like a vacuum that cannot be filled by just anything? Like a part of the puzzle that completes your being? Like the jagged edges of your soul have been especially carved to fit only a special piece to make it whole?
I do.
That’s where she comes in. Where do I start? With the beauty of her physical self? Or the one she hides behind a wall of steel hoping beyond hope someone would uncover it without her having to reveal it. She has a child inside her that time has put a lid on. The outbursts no longer there because maybe she thought the world wanted her to grow up. She forgot that that was one of the most lovable parts of her inner self. The sheer depth of her self mesmerizes me. I want to dive in. Explore around. Slowly. To search ever nook and crevice of the world inside which her true self lies. She makes me want to do that. I pride myself in the solidity of my masks and walls. Somehow she makes them non existent. I realized this long back when even a single word reply to my hello brought a never waning smile to my face. People say when you look at the person you love your heart starts beating faster. That’s not true. She calms my heart. She calms my demons. She unknowingly gets inside my barriers and gives me a relief that  even I don’t understand. I’ve always wondered why and honestly I still don’t know. She isn’t the princess everyone dreams of having. But she gives me the feeling of her being the other half that fits the jigsaw of my life. Does she complete me? No. She deletes my need to be complete. Because a complete self doesn’t need any other self. She on the other hand gives you a sense of incompleteness so that you’ll always want her by your side. She makes you want to want her.