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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. Continue reading →