I remember it like it was yesterday, when I first started drinking.

It was a windy August day, the sun was shining through the blinds when I woke up, and I felt the fresh summer breeze on my skin.

My day had started off just like any other. I had gone out to the terrace for my usual cigarette and coffee, accompanied by nothing else than my favorite thriller. I must have read that book a thousand times, yet I never found myself able to put it down till I’m reading the very last word.

By the time I had finished it, it must’ve been around noon, so I got up and finally made myself something to eat, before slumping down on the couch to watch yet another movie. It’s true, during the holidays I wouldn’t find myself being very productive, but to be honest I didn’t mind; I had worked hard all year round and I deserved those two blissful weeks of relaxation.

It was by the end of the second movie I had watched that day that I became bored. Truly, completely bored.

I had never quite felt that way before. Sure, boredom is something that is somewhat natural, but for the first time in my life, I found myself pleading the clock to go just a little faster, hoping that maybe sometime later, I’d find myself something to do, or maybe my friends would.

Oh, I might’ve forgotten to mention them — my friends. We were away on holiday just the three of us, in a beautiful place, just off the coast of Majorca. But the days drooled on, they were unwell and I knew no one here, and there’s only so much you can do to help someone who’s sick.

So I would just wait, walk around the house for a bit, try and find a book I didn’t already know by heart, but nothing could fill the empty space that time was creating deep inside me.

That’s when it started.

I went back to the kitchen to prepare my fourth coffee of the day. Anything to make the time pass. Anything to preoccupy myself.

It’s when I was rummaging through the cupboards, looking for a new box of instant coffee, that I finally found it. That precious bottle.

It was hidden all the way back, probably being saved for a particular occasion, maybe half full, a bottle of 12 year old Bourbon.

Its brown amber color called to me, and I couldn’t resist the idea of doing what I’d seen so many times before, in movies, and pouring just a little in my coffee.

So I did, just to try, and went back on the terrasse to enjoy my first ever alcoholic coffee.

It was somewhat bitter, but I enjoyed it, the first few gulps burning just a little in my throat made me feel a rush I hadn’t felt in a while, and before I knew it, the mug was empty.

My friends fast asleep on the couch, I got up and poured myself some more — still in my mug as to not attract suspicions in case my friends were to wake up.

By the end, I must have downed a good half of what was left.

I didn’t think much of it at the time; how could I have? I was 18, discovering the world for what it was as an adult. I was young, adventurous, life was full of possibilities for me and they were endless. I was the king of the world.

Not so much now, I thought to myself as I polished off my third wine bottle of the evening, staring at nothing but the empty chair that sat before me, nagging me.

There was a certain emptiness about it.

Alone in the air, flying in what seemed to be non-existant, so far from everything material, surrounded only by the sun, the clouds and the breath-taking “width” of it.

But somehow that’s what made it worse. Finally confronted to what seemed to never be, she was able to take a different approach of what her life had become.

There was so much to be done, and yet so little. She couldn’t distinguish whether it was laziness or simply tiredness.

Because that’s how she felt, tired - tired of how much she had tried, and however gotten no result from it.

The empty space was for her a metaphor of how she felt at the moment, because it could just be temporary, it would probably fade once the aircraft would land. But for the time being, it was the perfect example - because she truly did feel empty. At her age, there is so much to be done and so much to experience, her life has just started, however it also felt like it was ending. The beginning of a new chapter if you will, maybe even of just an entirely different book, but which was it? And there it was, the beauty of it, the incredibility of having so many choices, so many different opportunities, so many different destinies to choose from; and they were all hers.

Nothing makes the devil smile like denial.

Denial of his existence for instance.

Foolish humans, they chuckle at the thought of being another hole on the devils belt buckle.

Unaware of how the world was made to be fair.

The good ones will be sent off to heaven, and the rest to the devil.

However, the demons that live inside us will come to a agreement;

We shall all perish.

And Lucifer will smile, he will laugh, he will grin at our denial.

There are all these dimensions, worlds, alternate realities and they’re all right on top of each other.

We however ended up in the one where we are now. But it was never really a choice, it was imposed on us. We wanted chances, choices, the possibilities of travelling to different dimensions and stay there, permanently. We wanted the prospects of discovering something different, something somewhat unreal, something that wasn't ours to behold - to us, that was freedom.

A new world, the world that was someone elses, but could eventually end up being ours, allowing us to develop our knowledge of the galaxies and lose ourselves in it.

Yet, the gods couldn't allow us to be more insightful than they are, so they stuck us in one dimension, and one only. But they couldn't let the beauty of the universe escape us either, so they created the concept of dreams, letting us get what is only a meer glimpse of what could be.

It’s okay to feel bad.

Just because you think you might have fucked up doesn’t mean you aren’t a good person. It’s just that, despite everything you felt, you and that person weren’t compatible. Not in the relationship type that is.

Breaking up doesn’t mean for a fact that you can’t be friends with the person, because after all you did share something, and it would be a waste of a friendship to just blow it off.

And the memories will hurt, you will blame yourself, asking yourself what you could’ve possibly done to prevent the events that occurred. But I strongly believe that your destiny is written somewhere. However it is written with a pencil, that way you can still change it if you aren’t satisfied with what will come to you. But some things can’t be changed, and if these things happened, there’s a reason, you will find something better along the way. Maybe not today, or tomorrow, or even a decade from now; but it’ll come, you just have to be patient.

In the meantime try to channel what you feel and push it into a positive source of energy. Write more, study harder, be happier. Nothing is holding you back. You have your whole life in front of you, and you’ll never be younger than you are right now, so enjoy it.

It’s only when the city sleeps that our true selves come out.

During the day, you are expected to act a certain way, follow society’s rules, to conform... but when the sun finally sets and the moon makes a appearance, when the streets start to empty and all that’s left is the buzzing sound of the city lamps, we can let our guard down.

Your soulmate is supposedly your one true love.

It’s something people discuss constantly, because supposedly it’s what most people yearn for, and it’s somewhat a goal to achieve in life in order to attain pure and uncontested happiness.

But I believe that there might be something even stronger than that; friendship.

Since we presumedly have a soulmate in love, I don’t see why we wouldn’t have one in friendship.

People talk about the wonders of finding the love of your life, the moments and feelings you share with them are apparently indescribable.

I use the term “apparently” because I haven’t had the chance so far to meet that special someone.

However, I did find my soulmate in friendship, and let me tell you, there is nothing more special in the world.

If you haven’t had the blessing of meeting yours yet, let me just tell you, or at least try to explain what it feels like;

It’s that one person, that one person with whom you can share absolutely anything and everything. Whether its material, or emotional, it doesn’t really matter, because what’s yours will inevitably be theirs, and reciprocally.

They’re the type of person who can make any chore feel like a piece of cake, or at least will turn it in a way that will make it less boring to do, whether it’s by helping you, encouraging you, or even just by sitting there and talking to you as you go through this never-ending task.

You can spend hours on end with them, never getting tired of the time you get to share with that one special person, even if it means just scrolling through instagram in silence, till you find something you can share with them to which you will both laugh, or cry; all depends.

They are the person who would never allow themselves to hurt you. In an emotional way I mean. Physical is another story, because let’s face it, if they are truly your soulmate, they’re probably a bit of a cunt.

Still, they’ll never judge you, there is no possible shame to have with that person, because let’s be honest, they’ve probably already done worse. And if they haven’t, when the time will come that they do, you’ll be there for them the way they were for you.

Now, that doesn’t mean they won’t be honest with you, because they’ll always be the first to tell you the truth, even if it’s hard to hear, but in the most appropriate way. Whether it has to be direct and harsh, or soft and sugar-coated.

They are the person that make you laugh most in this shitty world, and could make any grey day bright once again.

Your jokes probably don’t make much sense most of the time, but lord do they make you laugh, as everyone else around you looks at you with an air of disdain.

But you guys make each other so happy, and your laughs are so pure that they are contagious, and the people around you will eventually end up smiling or laughing, whether it’s somewhat polite or genuine; it doesn’t matter, because you’re happy.

Your soulmate is someone that you love with a love so pure that you’ve asked yourself if they ever actually exist, if they are not a fragment of your imagination. Because to meet someone so kind, intelligent, witty, beautiful, funny… perfect, is it even really possible?

The french say “tu me manques” to say I miss you. It vaguely translates to “you are the missing piece of me”. Well once you find your soulmate, that sentence finds all it’s meaning, because they are truly the missing piece to your unsolved puzzle, they complete you. They’ve probably lived the same things as you have, or understand them like nobody else ever has. Losing them is a thought you couldn’t bare to withstand, so you just decide to never think about it.

But if it were to come to that, you would take a bullet for them. Such an incredible person deserves to life a long and precious life, even if it means cutting your own short.

You wish them everything good that there is for a person, considering it’s only fair, it’s everything they deserve; unlimited happiness. So seeing them sad, angry, or anything that could possibly affect them negatively drives you insane, because you know they deserve so much better.

Sure, they have little ticks that send you off the charts, habits you’d want to punch out of them but that you never would, because at the end of the day it’s a part of them, and in a weird twisted way, you love them for it.

I, thankfully, have had the chance to meet mine at the mere age of 18. I can truly say she is my soulmate in friendship, being that she is my everything, I couldn’t possibly imagine life without her.

You feel everything closing in on you, and reality finally strikes.

It's impossible for you to express it, so your body does it for you.

You begin shaking, your breaths become shorter and quicker and you feel yourself lose control.

Everything becomes fuzzy, and tears start welling up in your eyes for some unexplainable reason.

But at the end, that's what it is, isn't it? Unexplainable.

The angel of death is one of the most beautiful creatures you will ever live to behold. Ironic is the fact that it will be the last thing that you see.

She isn't a conventional beauty, but you won't be able to take your eyes off of her.

Black hair and piercing blue eyes, red lips and pale skin. She'll make you feel more at peace than you've ever felt in your life, as she stretches her hand out to you, a set of beautiful black wings deploying behind her as she leans in to give you the kiss of death.