August 24, 2025

You can’t really know what a soulmate connection is unless you’ve felt it. It’s a hard feeling to explain, but I knew it was there as soon as he laid his eyes on me and mine, his. The feeling of familiarity. I don’t know how to describe it. I never thought I could ever look at someone and feel like I’ve known them forever. But apparently, this kind of connection actually exists. It exists because I’ve experienced it.

 One of the main hallmarks of Chicago is baseball and the Cubs team. It’s almost impossible to get anywhere when there’s a game going on as fans fill up the trains and streets, snarling traffic and attracting onlookers around the Wrigley Field area.

I was on the train and on my way back home after a long day of work when the game ended. The Cubs had won which caused fans to go hysterical as they roamed the streets, screaming and throwing themselves at each other. I’ve noticed it’s become a given for Non-Sport fans to be dragged into the celebratory environment whether they liked it or not. The action quickly transferred from the streets to the trains half an hour later. The platforms were packed with disheveled drunken commuters. They shoved themselves inside train carts like lunatics, screaming and shouting, making things hard for the people trying to make it home. A couple of annoying douchebags made my commute on the train a living hell as they hollered in my ears and bumped into me several times without excusing themselves. Having absolutely no tolerance to being around individuals with such behavior, I hopped out of my cart as soon as it stopped and made my way home by foot.

It was starting to drizzle when I hit the streets. Just around the corner, I felt like I kicked something and although I was in a rush, I somehow stopped to inspect what it was. In a small puddle of water I could see a shiny little card. I picked it up; it was someone’s credit card. The name read: Warren Hunt. I looked around and there was no one. 

The first thought people get when they find something as valuable as someone else’s lost credit card is “I need to return this safely to its owner or notify the authorities” instead of “Let’s see if I can pull off a fraudulent transaction and get away with it.” Being the person that I am, an opportunist among other things, the latter played over and over in my head as I slowly paced around the street, my eyes discreetly searching for surveillance cameras. I knew I was at a point in my life where I could sustain myself, and I kind of dreaded knowing that although that life brought out the better, more decent part of me, the darker side remains lurking behind all the embellishment of my exterior. Thankfully, my racing thoughts quickly diminished when I noticed a man walking in my direction. His pacing was off, and he seemed worried. When I realized he was looking for something, I knew immediately the card belonged to him. I started to walk his way and as we got closer to each other, I pulled my hand up so he’d notice me and his face rejoiced as soon as I handed it back to him. He thanked, hugged me and oddly enough, I felt something. I’m not sure what it was, but I liked it. After “officially” introducing himself to me, Warren insisted I accepted his invitation to have coffee as a way to thank me for my courtesy. As we walked together, I was disgusted with myself and utterly ashamed by the unsavory thoughts that went through my head earlier. 

Our coffee date didn’t last long since he had to catch a plane to San Diego early the following morning for a job interview. Although I didn’t know what to make of our instant connection, he was more verbal about it and clearly stated he wanted to see me again, so we scheduled to meet up for dinner as soon as he got back. 

As promised, he called me as soon as his plane landed in Chicago, but since he was exhausted, he suggested pizza at his place. Walking there, I made conversation with myself to ease away the anxiety looping over me. When I got to his building, he was outside, sitting on the staircase. For a brief second, I compared him to Matt; although he’s not a sharp dresser like he is, dressed in simple jeans and a washed out lifeguard t-shirt, he was quite the charmer and took very good care of himself. He got up and kissed me. We walked over to the pizza parlor a few blocks down the street, got some food and took it back to his apartment.

We sat down on the kitchen stools and ate before moving over to his couch where we cuddled as we watched one of his favorite movies. As time passed by, I could feel the connection between us grow even more. He felt safe to be around. He felt like home. And I felt like I actually knew him even though I’ve just met him. What makes him different from everyone else is his honesty. He’s not afraid to be blunt and speak his mind. I was entranced by his company and how comfortable I felt around him. Whenever I could take out my phone and take a picture of him, I did it. Creepy, but I couldn’t help it. Somehow, taking them was a way for me to ground myself later, knowing that such physical evidence can be proof that our moment together was real.

Halfway into the movie, I couldn’t restrain myself anymore, so I threw myself at him and we started to make out. He got on top of me and shoved his tongue deep in my mouth while I cupped his ass with both hands and pulled him closer. He moved down to my neck, pulled up my t-shirt and bit my nipple, making me shudder. I slid my hand into his pants and stroke his cock. We rolled over and fell on the floor but kept on going. We undressed each other, breathing hard, eager to get to the part where we start fucking. He pushed me back on the carpet, spread my legs and shoved his way inside me. My whole body shook as I strained and pushed him to get deeper, sliding in and out, my legs tightly wrapped around his waist. He pumped away until he came inside me. He fell on me and breathed deep breaths in my neck as we both laid there for a lengthy amount of time.

We took a shower and got into his bed. He discussed with me his intentions when it comes to dating. He said he had come to that stage in his life at age forty-two where he was ready to settle down and fall in love and have a life with someone. When he said that, both a feeling of fear and enthusiasm fell over me. Somehow, I feel that hearing that always provides a sense of security. I could imagine building a future with. What sets me back though is the fact I’m always hard on myself, constantly believing that I’m not worthy of real love; one that’s based on care and appreciation. When I’m with him, I forget about everything around me. I’m totally taken by his goofiness, his smile, his voice. Then, there’s the way he looks at me. Thinking about it is enough to give me butterflies.

I don’t know why, but I feel like we’re made to be together. I don’t want to ambush him into having to commit to anything just yet, though. It’s clear he’s still not over the heartbreak his ex had caused him, and I should respect that. We can take things further once he’s ready for that to happen. In the meantime, there’s no doubt or fear in my mind about his intentions or his kindness. And I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. I don’t like to make people the center of my world, at least not that soon because there’s always the risk of ending up being disappointed, but with him, I feel like I won’t regret it if I decide to let my guards down and go with the flow. He makes me look forward for what’s ahead. I’ve never had an intensive desire to pursue something meaningful with someone before. It’s funny how our perception of the world can suddenly change. I’ve never in a million years thought this would happen to me.

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