Six years ago I was young, dumb, mostly drunk, and a little bit in love. We were a good looking couple, freshly 21 and a year and a half into dating we just knew we had to live together. I loved him, and I knew it—I wanted everyone to know it. Sometimes I wondered if he was too good to be true, he was just so pretty. He made me laugh, actually he made everyone laugh. He was always the life of the party. He was impulsive and I abandoned all my inhibitions for him. Something that was very unlike me. Also very unlike me, the word soulmate used to make me cringe until I met him. It was his idea to get a place together. But like I said, we were young, dumb, a bit in love, but mostly drunk.

One night became an early night for me as I could not see, think, or walk straight anymore. I put myself in a cab and yelled, “I’ll see your gorgeous ass at home baby!”

At four o’clock in the morning I felt it. The slight tingle woke me up just barely at first, but then it happened again, this time like electricity powering up my lips. No. Way. I thought. It can’t be, he can’t be. I knew in the fourth grade the first time I had declared out loud that I was in love with Brett Steinem what this tingle meant when I walked in on him kissing Busty Britney in the basement at my birthday party. I was never the same after that. I sat up and tearfully gazed at the empty space next to me in bed. The man I loved never came home. The burning tingle on my lips told me he was kissing someone else.

That was six years ago. Today I married a warm, gentle and kind man. He’s a bit more serious, never impulsive. Instead of losing my inhibitions he grounded me. I’m not 21 anymore, it’s what I need. I buried my version of love deep into the back of my heart after the last betrayal. This was the love I needed. Security and trust. I walked down the aisle and disguised my love for him.

Lying in bed in our honeymoon suite half asleep and a little bit drunk I feel it. Please, no. Not again. The slight tickle, and then the electrifying tingle. I sit up and tearfully gaze at the space next to me in bed. My husband is snoring lightly next to me. My fingertips move to my lips softly as the tingle I’ve become all too familiar with continues. The word soulmate still makes me cringe, because the man I love is still kissing someone else.