Once upon a time… – Sanela Ramic Jurich

Have you ever met someone for the first time and felt like you’ve known them forever? Against all odds, you know deep inside that you know them. They feel familiar and comforting. You are drawn to them, but you only just met them. How can that be? Could it be some kind of a karmic connection? Soulmates? Is such a thing even possible? Could it all be just a figment of your imagination or could there be an actual rational explanation for feeling this way? Is there a scientific explanation or is it fate?

The Story of Us by Sanela Ramic Jurich

Another gorgeous summer day. I shouldn’t be surprised by that; days here are always gorgeous. It’s summer all the time. The only time it rains and is gloomy is when we have an argument. He pulls the anger out of me. He knows which buttons to push, and he pushes them well. He understands the extent of effect he has on me. He’s the only one who can bring the storm, lightning, darkness, rain … out of me. It never lasts, of course, but it shows the power he has over me and he loves it. Oh, I’m sure I have the same effect on him too, but men can’t bring out the storms with their emotions like women can. Men can only walk away and hide. He hides in his man-cave until the storms of his emotions die down and then he comes back out looking more handsome than before; if that’s even possible. His smile can light up an entire universe. He is warm and inviting. The blue shade of his eyes doesn’t exist anywhere else in any universe. It only exists inside of him and when he’s calm and content, his eyes deepen and darken just a tiny bit. No one else can see it but me. I watch him so closely all the time. I soak him in. His beauty is indescribable to me. I don’t just physically see it; I feel it deeply. I know him so well that the beauty of him–all of him inside and out–overwhelms me. Soulmates.

We’ve known each other a long time. Ions. I don’t even remember the first time I laid eyes on him. We must have been created at the same time. Each lifetime we lived, we lived it together: learning and growing, driving each other mad at times too, but always ending up here; back home. He’s my opposite. There’s no me without him.

Our home is created for the two of us. That’s where we go after each life-time. No matter where we end up in life, or whom we end up with, once it’s over, we retire here.

The house itself is not huge nor fancy looking. A small cottage over a big mansion was my idea. He went along with it because of the promise I made: I would let him rebuild it any way he liked if he wasn’t satisfied with the way it looked now. Later, however, he admitted he loved it too.

The house is white. Brown shutters on windows and the oval door with an old-fashioned knocker in the middle of it are brown too. The roof is red and peaky. Multi-colored flowers are everywhere in the front. Red roses are climbing up the house and their scent is alluring. The front yard is cozy and is covered in freshly cut grass surrounded by a picket fence. The fence is not white, but natural color of the wood it was made of. There’s a path passing by the house. Across the path is a waist-size wall and behind it–in its entire glory–is the ocean. Oh, the smell in the air is captivating. Even though the sound of the waves hitting the rocks is loud, it gets drowned out by birdsong, an occasional bee buzzing, a bark of a dog, a horse neighing somewhere in the distance … but the best part about the surroundings here is that no noise is ever caused by a car, train, airplane. There are no neighbors in sight, but we know they are nearby if we need them.

To the left of the house, the dirt path leads to a green hill. It takes some effort to climb it, but once up there it feels like an accomplishment. The view of the ocean–once on top–is spectacular and is well worth the climb. There are no fences there. Walking down the hill in the opposite direction, leads to a white, sandy beach. The beach is vast. Lots to explore. Caves and a small forest are not too far away either.

This particular evening, we went out for a walk. We climbed up our hill and laid down our blanket so we could have a picnic. Even though we don’t need to eat here, we still do it. We love the comforting taste of food and wine. We teased and made each other laugh until our bellies ached. We talked for hours and hours like we usually do. We lost track of time and before we knew it, we were blanketed by the night. Night creatures were slowly coming out of their hiding places and were making noises. It felt like there was something heavy in the air though. Couldn’t put my finger on it; couldn’t truly understand the feeling. He seemed somewhat different. I could tell there was something he wanted to talk about but was struggling to find the right words. The worry written on his face he was trying to conceal was overwhelming.

“What is it?” I asked slowly, even though I dreaded the answer. I, as an empath, was soaking up the emotion he was feeling right now, and it felt like his nerves were getting the best of him. He was worried about my reaction. He was worried I would say no.

He looked deeply into my eyes as if he was trying to see what my answer would be. Not able to read me, he groaned, then whispered: “Let’s do it! I’m ready to go again!”

I didn’t have to ask to know what he meant. I instantly knew what it was he wanted to do again. It was not something I ever look forward to doing because that something terrifies me. Each time we did it in the past, he was the one who insisted. He was the one who initiated it and even though I was reluctant to do it, each time he asked, I always said yes, but I only agreed to it because of his promise to be close. To keep me safe.

Reading the fear on my face, he inched closer and looked deeper into my eyes: “Please?” He whispered knowing I could never say no when he looked at me that way.

“Together?” I asked in a shaky whisper. “Promise?”

“Always.” He answered as he placed a kiss on my hand.

“When?” I asked, dreading the answer. I knew that once he got the urge to go, it’s always immediate.

“Tomorrow morning.”

I nodded without looking at him. A lifetime away from home; from knowing who we truly are. What if we get separated? I thought sadly, what if we don’t find each other on the other side? What if I get lost? What if I lose him? All those questions were buzzing around in my head. We don’t need to pack anything for this trip. One way ticket to planet Earth.

I didn’t sleep that night. I had a million questions on my mind. The only comforting thought I had was knowing I would not be going alone. He’ll be with me every step of the way, I thought, he’s the brave one. He won’t let go of my hand and we’ll end up in the same place. We’ll find each other in that life just like we did in all the others. Our souls will recognize the familiarity of one another, and everything will be fine. I was convinced we would go on our journey of learning and we’d come back home for eternity again. Someday we’d know everything and there wouldn’t be a reason to go back. We’d move on to a higher, better place, but until then, we’d keep going back. Always learning. Constantly evolving.

This morning, he was the one to make coffee. I couldn’t conceal my dread and he couldn’t hide his giddiness. He was excited to go. To explore a new life. To meet new people.

He kept trying to excite me about it too, but my worry overwhelmed me. I couldn’t calm my thoughts no matter how hard I tried. We finished sipping our coffee and headed for the door. I turned around one last time. Looking into our cozy living room and taking it in: small fire simmering in the fireplace. On top of it, three fat candles shimmering with a soft white glow. Above, a portrait of the two of us; a comical one someone had painted to make us laugh. We loved it so much, we framed and hung it over our fire-place. The furniture, comfortable and inviting. There is so much love here, I thought, why does he want to leave?

Looking over into the dining room, I noticed a bowl of green apples on top of the table. Of course they would not spoil by the time we came back. Time here runs differently than time on Earth. My eyes teared up slowly.

“Come,” he said gently, “we’ll be back before you know it. It’s just a short trip.”

“It feels different this time,” I whined quietly. “I’m really scared.”

“Don’t be,” he answered, “I won’t let go of your hand, I promise.”

I trusted him. I knew he would never put me in danger. We slowly closed the door behind us. I didn’t turn around to look at the house. My heart was breaking at the thought of leaving it. We exited the front yard. Closing the short gate, we headed in the opposite direction of our hill. Walking down the dusty path, I felt like my entire being was dying. My overwhelming sadness was slowing us down, but his growing excitement was pushing us forward. Next thing I knew, we were standing by a gaping opening of a tunnel. There was a guard there, a short fat man who looked like those ugly trolls in fairy tale-books who guarded passages and bridges.

“Where to?” The troll asked sleepily.

“Earth,” answered my companion with a broad smile on his face.

The troll nodded. “Well, you know the drill. Keep walking straight until you reach the fork in the road. I know this isn’t your first rodeo so,” he chuckled cracking himself up, “you know that if you want to end up together to not let go of each other’s hand and if you want to go to the good place, once at the fork, keep going right.”

He wrote down our names and off we went.

We tightened the grip on each other’s hands and entered the tunnel. It was lit by small round lights above our heads. We still had quite a long walk ahead of us, so he tried to lift my mood by talking, which was a bad idea because our talks always, always end up in arguments. We should have kept quiet because our next conversation sealed our faith.

We usually don’t spend much time with others, but we do meet up with them at least once a week. There’s a small town not far from home where everyone knows everyone else. That’s where we go to mingle and catch up with others but, also, to welcome any newcomers.

As we walked further away into the tunnel, he started telling me about a conversation he had with one of the other female-souls last time we were in town. She was a love interest of his in one of his previous lives. While telling me about their conversation, he casually mentioned that she told him she was thinking of going back to Earth.

That’s why he wants to go back, I thought jealously, that is the real reason we’re heading toward a new life-time right now. I became furious at the thought. Not wanting to show him how enraged with jealousy I became, I let slip that I too ran into an old flame in town, the one I knew he hated. I lied, of course, but couldn’t stop myself. I wanted to get back at him for indulging in a flirtation with another woman.

Instantly, he stopped talking. He couldn’t handle the jealousy that was occupying his heart and his thoughts right now. I felt it. As an empath, I felt what he was feeling and it got mixed up with my own emotions making me feel so angry. He let go of my hand and kept walking faster.

In all of the mix of emotions, I didn’t realized he let go of my hand.

We stopped at the fork. There were two ways to go now. Each way was pulling us forward like a magnet. We couldn’t see anything beyond this point. Both pathways were completely obscured by fog. Deafening noise was coming from both ways. It sounded like wind. As we inched closer, the noise became impossibly louder.

“Which way did the troll say we should go?!” I shouted over the noise.

He just shrugged, not looking at me. He did not answer. He was still mad at me.

I tried to take his hand, but he pulled it away quickly. He didn’t want me close. I felt so alone and weak. I didn’t have any more strength in me to smooth things over like I always do. With my back turned toward both openings, I turned to face him. I could see and feel the disappointment and resentment he felt toward me. I slowly started walking backwards while looking at him. Whichever magnet pulls me in, I thought sadly, that’s where I’m going. I felt the pull of the force and was sucked in. It happened so fast, I didn’t have time to form another thought. It was the left way that pulled me in. I vaguely heard him call out my name in desperation, but it was too late. I was gone from his sight. As I was speeding through the orbit, all of my lives and “home” flashed before my eyes and then they slowly started disappearing from memory. The only memory I held on to was of his eyes. I closed mine, so I could concentrate on keeping the memory of him alive in my mind. I regretted the argument we had and wanted him here to keep me safe. I knew I was now being forced to live out this next life alone. without him. My worst nightmare had come to life. We were lost to each other.

He hesitated five minutes, not realizing that five minutes here meant nineteen years on the other side. When he finally got pulled in, it was the right way. He ended up in a good place, nineteen years younger than I.

I ended up across the ocean in a far away place. Always feeling like I didn’t belong. Looking up at the stars every night, I was wishing I could go home. Not being able to tell anyone, nor explain which home I wanted to go to, was lonely. Even I, myself, didn’t exactly know where that was or why I felt that way. All of my memories from before were wiped out. Only sometimes, when I’d close my eyes, I would see the most beautiful shade of blue staring back at me. I searched high and low for those eyes, but none that I met ever even came close to that perfection.

I lived through war and an abusive marriage. Nobody ever loved me.

One day, many years into my life, I unexpectedly recognized the familiar eyes for eyes are the mirrors to the soul. The familiarity of him was so inviting and pleasant. Staring at his face calmed and made me feel like everything was all right. I tried not to think about how someone I had never met before could seem so familiar to me. To my dismay though, he did not recognize me the same way; the way my soul recognized his. There was nothing in my eyes he found familiar or even appealing.

He was repelled by me, almost disgusted by the touch of my hand.

…

To be continued, maybe.