The Soul Never Forgets

i think that when my soul chose you, she knew what she was doing. i like to think that i know her, very well, and i can only imagine how she must have felt when her eyes touched yours, when your hands touched hers. i can only imagine the yearning. i think that when she chose you, it was without any war, without any battles, without any casualties on the dueling ground; it just was. when she found you, she wasn’t ready to let you go (i think in a way, she still isn’t). she placed her yearning onto me, with her whispers in my ear, and i can still hear them when i look at you, “that one,” she says. “that one’s worth it.”