You always imagined your soulmate to be this wonderful, kind person. You thought you might run into them in public. Maybe at work or even while you were out running errands.
What you didn't expect, however, for your soulmate to already know you. In fact, they've known who you are for years. They've kept tabs on your whereabouts and never made themself known... Until now.
It started with small things. The rent on your tiny apartment kept you busy. Sometimes, you skipped meals to keep the lights on. You didn't have a car, instead walking to work and school or riding your beat up old bike. Occasionally, food would show up on your doorstep. It was a blessed treat, usually the type of food you wouldn't buy for yourself. You were managing to keep your head above water just barely until you lost your job.
It was the worst week of the semester. You were in the middle of studying for finals and you had a ton of work to do. It wasn't your fault, really. You'd been fired after a Karen badmouthed you in front of the district manager. When the first of the month rolled around, you tried to pinch together what meager savings you had. But when you approached your landlord with your rent, you were informed that it had already been paid in full.
Stumped, you returned to your job hunt. You couldn't be sure it actually was your soulmate looking out for you. Maybe it was a mistake. But that night, dinner arrived on your doorstep. And with it, a single red rose.
The gifts continued for a long time after that, usually just things you needed when you needed them most. Food, new shoes, a new bike helmet when the buckle on your old one snapped. But then, sometimes it was something romantic. A rose, a t-shirt from your favorite band, a book you'd been wanting to read but hadn't had enough spare money to go and buy. You didn't know what to think of it.
Who was this person? Why did they keep themselves secret?
Knowing they must have been watching you somehow, you began writing them thank you notes. You stuck them under your doormat, sticking out just barely so that your admirer would see it. The first time you did it, the note disappeared that very same night.
You never got a response, but you started writing the notes every time your admirer left something for you. Even if you couldn't pay them back for their kindness, you still wanted to thank them.
One day, something different arrived on your doorstep. It was an invitation of some sort, your name scrawled on the front in elegant, lilting cursive. On the inside was a single card. The paper was smooth and white, embossed with gold lettering. All that was written was a date, time, and location.
Heart fluttering in your chest, you thought perhaps you would finally get to meet this person. You marked the meeting on your calendar. It was in two days, on one of your only off days. You eagerly counted down the minutes.