hate to be that girl on main but
“I’ve met you in every single lifetime and I always hope it will work out but it doesn’t but I’ll still keep finding you again because those few days/months/years together with you are always so worth it”
In every lifetime we have met. In different roles, in different times.
But every one I have loved you. That I know.
You remember each lifetime so vividly. So beautifully. After we make love you describe each lifetime, and how we met, how we fell in love, how we inevitably were forced to part ways.
In another lifetime we were doctor and patient. You’re always bandaging me up when I do something stupid. Like once, before we were dating I split my finger open on some metal, and you held my finger to make the bleeding stop. The scar is still there. It’s my favorite one, actually. Being forced to be in the same personal space bubble as you is my favorite way to pass the time.
You say in another lifetime I was constantly in your office, acting like a hypochondriac, only wanting to see you. Which I admitted eventually, after running out of money to pay for visits for no reason. You left for Europe shortly after, during the war, to be a military doctor.
In another lifetime we were pilots. We died together in a tragic, unexpected poor landing crash. Legend has it that the two pilots were in an argument regarding how they were going to perform this landing, and it led to a fist fight that caused them to crash, and perish. Our ghosts haunt us sometimes, actually. Haunt the area where your home is. Where the crash was. We’ve seen them before. I’ve only ever seen yours, and you’ve only ever seen mine.
In this lifetime, I was afraid that it yet again wouldn’t work out. Like our past lifetimes. When I first found you, committed with a baby on your hip and a ring on your finger, my heart shattered. I thought to myself, “wow, his wife is lucky”. And she fucking was. But she blew that, the ungrateful, greedy bitch.
When I met you, I thought, “oh fucking great, just like every other damn lifetime where I get a taste, but don’t get to have him.” As well, as, “this man is going to change my life.” And that you have.
I suppose in the past few lifetimes, I’ve been a decent person. The universe decided to award your heart to me, through calamitous tragedy of your own.
Though you assure me regularly that you wouldn’t trade an ounce of that pain for the love we share now, I still feel guilty about it. About being happy about it when I realized what was happening. That she had left you. That she had blamed you for her problems. For her unhappiness. For her infidelity. For her jealousy of your successes.
When you told me you loved me, it went a little like this. “My whole life I’ve always felt this piece of me, missing, and I thought I had found it, but when I realized who I really married, I realized I hadn’t found it. But then I met you, and this peace washed over my life, over my soul. There was this familiarity with you, and I realized all those dreams I’ve had, they were of you. You and I in our past lifetimes. Loving each other, but the timing never being right. I hope this is the lifetime where the timing is good. I love you. And I hope I don’t have to lose you in this lifetime.”