There’s no undoing that.
No returning to factory settings.
No pretending we didn’t alter each other at a cellular level.
So here I am.
Every version.
The soft one.
The loud one.
The grieving one.
The feral one.
The little kid still checking the window to see who leaves.
Take me or leave me.
Either way,
you’ll carry pieces of me for the rest of eternity.
And I’ll carry you.
Because if home is a person—
against all odds,
against every survival instinct I’ve ever had—
I think I finally found mine.
And God…
I hope you stay.
🖤
And eternity can take every memory you ever had of me.
That’s fine.
Because this goes deeper than memory.
Deeper than photographs.
Deeper than names.
Deeper than stories retold until they lose their shape.
Not if you severed the head.
Not if the body kept moving.
Not if the universe itself pronounced time of death.
I’ve died before.
Came back enough times to know where all the exits are.
Know how to revive us,
keep this thing breathing
even when you’ve convinced yourself it stopped.
Because I’ve been here before.
And I know something you don’t.
You can’t outrun certain people.
You can’t stay busy enough.
Can’t create enough new memories.
Can’t metaphorically pick up the scissors,
cut the cord,
and walk away
like you’ve done with so many souls before.
This one goes deeper.
Deeper than where memory resides.
Deeper than the bones that’ll one day be buried
at the end of this life.
Because souls don’t speak in words.
They echo.
In the wind.
In songs you haven’t heard in years.
In random Tuesday afternoons.
In the sudden feeling that somebody’s missing
when you swore you’d already moved on.
Parallel lives.
Perfectly out of sync.
Still somehow moving to the same rhythm.
A frequency so beautiful
you’d miss it
if you didn’t slow down long enough to listen.
And maybe that’s what love really is.
Not possession.
Not permanence.
Just two souls recognizing each other
across time,
across distance,
across lifetimes,
and whispering—
“There you are.”
LyssDymension
