Love, over a thousand years.

Things had changed.

People didn’t look for love anymore.

They were just not interested. Because that meant ageing. And no one wanted to die

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The air was refreshing.

Something about the graveyard made you appreciate everything about life, you know.

Even the crappy stuff. Like Love.

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Julia scraped dirt off her mother’s headstone. It’s been fifteen years she died, her dad fifteen years one day, lol. Even death couldn’t keep them apart.

She was 18 when her parents died.

Fifteen years later and she was still eighteen.

Because everyone thought the idea of finding your soulmate was absurd.

But the idea saddened her. What is the point of life if you never get to feel the magic of Love?

Everyone thought she was crazy, they would rather live a thousand years of bland mediocre emotions than feel love with depth deeper than the oceans, stronger than the indian Tsunami but for a limited number of years.

Nope, they’d rather live forever, Because loving meant dying, at some point, and death wasn’t something people liked to think about. Except people like her parents.

“Hey” She turned and she could swear she felt her soul age. “Haha, look who’s in a hurry to die”she chuckled to herself.

“Mum?” he had interesting blue eyes, Like he had lived through 10 decades.

“Both”

“I’m sorry” His tone was laced with sadness.

“Nah, they lived more than any dumb ass out there”

It was his time to chuckle. “I think everyone lying 6 feet did”

“why aren’t you?”

“’cause I’ve never been given the chance to choose”

They were sitting now, somewhere between Love and Death.

She could have chosen to walk away and live the rest of her life without ageing a day.

But that wouldn’t be living.

Sitting right here, beside her parents gravestone with the cute blue eyed boy, talking about life and love and choosing death, that was living.

She had never felt more alive.

Such irony.

Each time soulmates met, they transit into the mortal world.

Now death can touch them.

But first,

Love will ignite in them a burning furnace of fire.

That fire will be worth more than a thousand years.

 

A different kind of fear.

I cried today.

But it was a different kind of tears.

About 2 years ago, I cried, I cried a tsunami. In this same room, on this same bed and possibly in this same dress.

I cried because I was sacred. I still am. But it’s a different kind of fear now.

I was scared of what the future held. I had no plans for my life . Nothing at all. Zilch.  You could as well call me an NFA (no future ambition) I was about to graduate school and I had no idea how I wanted my life to go. And that was scary as hell.

But about 2 years later.

I’m here. Still the little fearful girl I’ve always been. But with a bigger faith than I’ve ever had. 

I have almost everything figured out. More than I thought I would. I’m blessed and I’m not even talking about the material things. Everything is working fine and I mean everything.

But. I’m scared.

Can I hold this all together? What if I mess things up? What if I’m never happy? And there’s an endless list of “what ifs”

So the question is why? Why aren’t we ever satisfied. I mean one would think I’d be a happy-go-lucky kid, considering how much I’ve been blessed.

But I have a theory: maybe we are never to reach that state where we are totally and perfectly satisfied. Content, yes, but not satisfied. Cause maybe when we become satisfied we stop trying to be better, stop hoping for more and eventually, stop chasing after God.

And that’s where the real tragedy happens. You stop living  and start to settle cause you think you have everything you need.

Fear, when put in the right context is not always a bad thing, (hold your stones ye bible scholars, let me finish fest!) I believe fear starts to become a problem when it begins to grow bigger than your faith, even the bible says overcome fear with Faith. If there were no fear, there would be nothing to use your faith for.

So it’s ok to fret a bit, don’t beat yourself up too much for feeling a little afraid of what the future holds, as far as you don’t get stuck in that little valley called fear, instead let faith steer you towards anchoring your life (along with your fears and uncertainties) on Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith. He’d never leave you hanging, trust me, I know.

So be content.

But not so much as satisfied.

Words, The petty ones.

I struggled frantically as i felt the last bit of air being sucked out of my lungs, i was transcending into another realm. I was dying.
I tried to grope for something, anything but there was nothing to hold onto.
My first thoughts were to call out for mum, but the words won’t even form.
I guess this is what death felt like.
I was been carried, no one was around but i was being carried, to a stage, no, more like stand, witness stand.
“What’s happening to me?” my face was wet. I was Alone.
Alone and scared as hell.
In front of me appeared a screen, no not screen, it was too large to be called a screen. More like a window, a window into the world.
“Mum, Stop it!” wait, was that me? Of course it was. I knew my own voice. I stared, disbelieving, as the other me glared at my mother complaining about how she was being so judgmental before storming off.
What had we been arguing about? A boy? The one who broke my heart a few months later? Gosh!
I watched with horror as my mum dropped to the couch trying to hold back tears, to think that she was hurting for me and because of me. All at once.
My stomach dropped to my knees
“I apologized” i muttered in self defense, but deep down i knew i couldn’t fix the hurt my mother felt that day as i screamed in her face.
The next couple of images were of me with a handful of people, close friends, strangers, the taxi driver, the waitress, lovers, classmates, my dog, even my dog, Gosh i was such a pain!
The room began filling with silly one sided statements like, “Nope, it’s your fault that happened” “I didn’t see your name on it” “You should have gotten here first” “You never do it right” “you’re such a pain” and i went on and on.
At this point, i didn’t need to wonder what this was about.
I was being shown each and every argument i had had growing up.
Funny thing, most of them erupted from petty issues that i could have let slide. I watched my other self, willing my legs to hold a little longer,
How i raged when i should have learned Patience.
How i blurted out hateful words when i should have learned Love.
How i handed out judgement when i should have learned Empathy.
I couldn’t have those moments back.
If i had another chance… perhaps that’s what everyone who had come before me thought.
The window dissolved and slowly darkness crept all over, swallowing me.
Was i awakening from this dreadful dream or was i just transcending into my much deserved doom?
I couldn’t tell.