Soulmate is too weak a word for him

A friend of mine posted a link to this poem a couple days ago. Wow.
Those last two paragraphs! Those last two lines! 

perhaps then this is to be your fate
in every life you live, every form you take
you will meet a boy with blood on his tongue,
a despairing glint in his eye
and you will love him, scars and all
oh, as you have never loved before.

it is not always love at first sight (it almost never is)
but one way or another,
he always falls for your quiet humor, your unwavering spirit
and you for the way his eyes dance when he laughs,
for the shuddering strength in his hands.
before long, you do not remember how it was
to not be his.

now in some lives, you resist his pull
in others, he strays from the path
one wretched time, he dies before you meet
and you spend the rest of that life aching and incomplete.
sometimes you die with him, content to your last breath
sometimes you are torn from his side too soon
and only the stars bear witness to your gasping pain,
your dizzying ruin.

some souls are bound together,

so the poets say,

but you and he are more than destined, more than merely bound—

your love is not just written in the stars,

it is woven into the fabric of the heavens, the essence of the cosmos. 

the two of you are, i truth, but one: 
one heart, one spirit, one intrinsic soul-
it is not that you are fated to be with him, but rather 
fate has not the audacity to keep you apart.

— soulmate is too weak a word for him, Amrita C (via tumblr)   

Sometimes I feel as though I was put on this earth to love him. Sometimes just being here, as the one who loves him, is more than enough. I am satisfied. I am overflowing. I am full. I am content. As if this is what I was made for. Meant for. 

~DM