A Soul’s Braid
You might not even realize when it starts to happen. (Did I?) But, when you love someone so deeply, when you have found your actual soul’s mate they start to braid together. Slowly folding over and over and over over around around and through and through and together. Layer over layer. And, as you continue down the braid further along, together, those strands farther up, at the start, well they connect with the Great Strand you started in a previous life. When you got to love, or lose, or hold or let go but hopefully have fucking loved. All those lives.
Your new strands they start where you left off, where you never even stopped, because you had already braided together. Before your mind can let you love that deeply, that fucking inner heart, soul, spirit *knows*, it starts to braid before you can acknowledge outside the center.
Braid.
Over, under, around, one.
They blend and bleed and fall and rise and come together as one.
And, then, someday, you feeeeel it. You know how deeply you love, have loved, will always love this person. And, you hold on as tightly as you can, each hold, each kiss, each touch, maybe cause you know, again. The lose. That you’ll have to let go. In one way. Come together. In another way.
You talk about it with him.
Those other lives and all we must have learned throughout them. You even say, “I think some lifetimes we didn’t find each other and that taught us deep loneliness and empathy, how to better understand those who don’t find their braid strands this time. How to deeply fucking appreciate the strands we hold now and give to one another. I love you, I love you, I love you.”
I felt Trav become a part of me and me him.
And, when he died, I felt every single fucking molecule and particle and parts that go so far beyond words crack and break and crumble and fall out of me. I felt my own soul, physically sweep and fall and push through my skins layer and fall to the fucking ground. I felt it move through me, pass through.
Goodbye, soul.
Because, how could I hold on to a braid that had already formed, that I was already a part of? She had to leave me and run to be with Poppi.
She, I, our only wish, to be next to him.