The Completion

The Completion 
The girl sits next to the mannequin to recite a letter that she writes for the large plastic figure. The completion. She wants the mannequin to feel how she feels and what she sees in it.

What seems complete isn’t a completion. For years, I was looking for Mr. Right to complete my body and I had thought God created me out of a part of Mr. Right. I was looking and seeking, dancing and singing. I tried all kinds of forms to be close to the being who potentially completes the missing part of me. I came across myriad souls and bodies, and none of them had ever completed me, though they all entered my body with the will to complete me. 
Then, you came along in my journey of finding another half. You completed me without entering my body. I invited you to my soul, we traveled through each other’s universe through an entrance to the black hole. You are the existence of my universe and you are a woman. You are the mother of our universe, yet the whole time, we were looking for a father. 
She places the letter onto her legs and gazes at the mannequin with affection. 
 “I don’t know who you are,” She doesn’t know anything about the mannequin and she can hardly even sense the soul of the faceless doll.
“but I know you’re real.”