Chapter 33: The Space between Souls is Made of Silent Suffering

Some universes can be cruel places. Places where lives are chattered and destinies are unraveled; a place where dreams go to die in the inevitability of the realization that they are nothing but ideas void of reality.

In the earth of one of those universes, two lives were made to cross and enact the most tragic of plays. The two souls would resonate when close to each other, and leave the seeds for dreams not meant to be to grow like weed in the garden of their minds.

The two souls met by accident, but the accident only brought them together to pull them apart in a flash. Meanwhile the biological machines, the human vessels of the resonant souls created images strong enough to leave an idea behind. As both continued their ways and their separate routines, the dream seeds grew invisible to their conscious mind.

The world put them together again, this time was different, this time they would be close and would see each other as much as they would want, and maybe the dream seeds would shine through and cross to become realities.

But even if the idea stuck and even if the two souls were resonant, they weren’t the same. They were two very different lines of possibilities that created two very different people. Only them could see through the veil of life and witness the similarities of their souls.

The lines diverged, one alone and one crossed with another. And so when they met again, there was no space for dreams, only the silent suffering of the missed possibilities, and the missed peacefulness of losing themselves in each other and grow both fueled by their bond.

The lone soul waited for the one who didn’t wait. They both played the game of conviviality wearing faces of salt and faces of marble, attending an imaginary wedding that was never to be over.

The other soul couldn’t bear her current partner anymore, he wasn’t the man she fell in love with anymore. Did she ever fell in love with him? Yes, but it was so quick, and the convenience of distance became her charm to make her assumptions real, and keep the story going. Not anymore, he became too attached, too close, and too real. The man she loved was no longer a man, only the personification of everything that annoyed her about him. He was feeding of her like a parasite, and he was getting hungrier, so she cut the rope that bound them and now she was free. Now maybe she could let the dream seeds grow and resonate with her resonant soul.

The lone soul was waiting and waiting, and so he waited for almost all his life. When he found a resonant, he couldn’t believe his waiting was to be over, that the gates of happiness were so close to him. But then life slapped him in the face with the realization that once again, like every faint time hopped would have appeared, he was too late. Worst! He was a slow bastard, and there was the key to all his previous failures, too late to notice, too late to act, too late to react, and life passes by.

When his resonant soul was finally free, when he finally started to do something, and push the slowness of his world toward higher momentum, he was cut short. His resonant soul wasn’t one to wait, she wasn’t one to bear being alone and not entangled. She quickly found replacement and once again opened the gates of limbo.

The lone soul who stayed alone so long finally got used to the company of his resonant, and already she was gone to the arms of another, she tried to hide it, but the whispers weren’t low enough to dodge his sharp ears. He didn’t say anything because she didn’t want to say anything, and the play continued. The moment of improvisation where everything was possible was gone. The two were back to their routines, meeting less and less, forgetting the moment when there was no space anymore between them, no suffering, only the bliss of resonating beyond the daily play of what destiny dictated.

Their meeting was an accident meant to grow dream seeds, but the blossom of the dream seed remained invisible, fueling the void of the space between souls…

 

 

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