... I

believe

in Soul

in which

I draw our

attentions,

to the very S

as in pluribus...

multus tumultuous

that signifies an uS

in an equilibrium

as such Ssssss's

in our balances

top and bottom

heading off

in opposite

but equal

directions

with this

sensuous

central

swerve

that

links

uS

all

up

~

06.20.2023

We Became Each Other's Soulmates challenge @DanPhantom123

Matteo said to Matilde

dear I cannot

see you well enough

to hear or feel

Ah my love

invisible it is I

beneath your feet

yelled Matilde to Matteo

dear is that you

whispering

in my ear?

I fear you're

mussing my tresses

and that will never

do except to

to pull

And Matteo

sat deftly braiding

the grass that grew

while Matilde

watered the soil

with her tears

from below

And then all

condensed and

it rained adequately

on them both

and they turned

inward unhurried

each believing

fervently

the other

had safeguarded

the spark

I struggle with the concept of soulmates. It implies that there is just one person who is ideal for you. This seems unnecessarily cruel. What if you live in California and your soulmate is a shepherd in Egypt? The odds of living happily ever after with your 1 in 7 billion soulmate is about as good as me becoming a published author (I have no intention of EVER seeking publication). Sorry, but I have been married to the same wonderful woman for almost 18 years and can honestly and thankfully say I am glad she isn't my soulmate.

Having a soulmate implies that you have the ideal relationship with this person. There is little to no arguing, you both have similar goals, you like the same music, you share parenting views, and your in-laws live on another continent. So, if you're with your soulmate, you should expect to wake up every morning with lovebirds singing outside your window. You smile, stretch, and yawn enjoying the glow of the remaining endorphins left over from your passionate and frenzied lovemaking the entire night before. The previous evening is always romantic. You and your soulmate enjoy a quiet dinner with charming and flirtatious conversation followed by a trip to the bedroom where you make love in the glow of candle light. The lovemaking is always perfect as you both cum repeatedly and neither of you have to sleep in the wet spot when you finally slip into blissful slumber. (tip: unless one or both of you goes off like Old Faithful at climax you should be able to cover the love stew spot with a hand towel) With thoughts of the previous evening sending a delicious shiver through your loins, you rise out of a somehow unsoiled bed. Seeing that you're now awake, squirrels slip in your open bedroom window and bring you your bathrobe. Humming a post coital tune you go downstairs where your soulmate has already made breakfast, but before you eat, more frenzied love making (just not on the dinner table you pervs, people EAT there). After breakfast and afterglow you have a sexy shower together before you both go off to work.

Sounds perfect right? WRONG! Real love is forged in the fires of adversity, compromise, and the frequent desire to hit your mate over the head with a 10 pound sledge hammer. Having a soulmate would be boring. How do you and a soulmate learn to weather the sick kids, financial issues, and sexual droughts resulting from a calendar full of playdates, soccer games, and little to no alone time? Answer? You won't. Your relationship will fold quicker than a Victoria's Secret in Amish country. If everything in your relationship is ideal you won't have a fucking clue when the less than ideal outside world launches multiple 10 pound flaming turd-like problems at you and your fairytale relationship. It is the friction, the differing opinions, the mutual hate for each other's in-laws, and the occasional yelling and screaming fight which tempers a relationship. The world and its problems will break a soulmate relationship quicker than a dollar store vibrator overheats in a porno movie.

So what evidence do I have? My wife and look like we don't belong on the same planet let alone in a marriage that is pushing 20 years. My wife was raised in a church and taught Sunday school. I'm surprised that I'm not struck by lightening on the rare occasion I enter a church. My wife grew up in a town known as, "The Cowboy Capital of the World," and was raised on country music. I FUCKING HATE country music, redneck, and cowboy culture. My wife likes Hallmark movies and romances. I like the "Lord of the Rings" trilogy, Pink Floyd's "The Wall," "This is Spinal Tap," Monty Python, and Mel Brooks movies. My wife enjoyed middle class security growing up. I was raised in the shadow of domestic violence and food insecurity. We have worked hard at our marriage, our rough edges smoothed with experience, compromise, and bouts of quicky love making because the kids will want something else in a couple minutes. It's not perfect, but I would bet on my marriage over any relationship between two soulmates. Fuck, we'd probably kick the soulmate couple's asses when they refer to themselves as such and on the hunch that they probably have a "Live, Laugh, Love" print hanging somewhere in their home. Both would set us off

Look, if you believe in soulmates, good for you. The problem with perfection is it doesn't have the foundation and battle proven strength of a relationship that has survived personal differences while simultaneously weathering the 10 pound flaming turd level problems life throws at them. I don't need a soulmate, I need a friend, sex partner that knows how to keep both of us out of the wet spot, and someone who is willing to forgive my legion of fuck ups. You can have your soulmate, I will take my, "Well this Kinda Sucks but We'll Get Through it" mate and enjoy another 20 years together.

I left because I thought

He was in love with someone else

I left quietly

Took a plane back East

We didn’t talk abat it

Because I could not handle

Him saying “I no longer love you”

On the calendar marked

“Change of heart”

A psychic predicted

Did it manifest?

Or was it her that came between?

Did you like her best?

Was she better than me?

He was my One true love

We felt the warmth of each other’s love

In our hearts,

like waves of the Arizona summer

Twin souls we could communicate

Telepathy from far away

And mail a note answering my question

We traveled and camped

Mountain biked and fasted in the mountains

One night I meditated in the dessert

Activating my Merkabah

After preparation, final initiating

Steps to activating breathing love

Mid the activation breath

I hear a sound

In the silence of the desert

I suddenly heard two boots

crunching on the desert rocks

It was midnight, I was house sitting alone

What was it that had come?

It was the same sound,

I heard at home alone when I was young

But no person was visible, no one was there

Was it two ghosts or off-world beings?

Were they observing or trying to change the fabric of my being?

The fear I felt at unknown guests

The sound of someone in the dark silent

Midnight meditation in the desert

Lasted well beyond the night

Shaking I stopped scared

Scared to death I ran inside

Anxiety it triggered

I’d soon to find lasted

nearly my whole life

In the Arizona West

It trickled into all I did

Work, identity, relationships

Once the fear was activated

No longer coming purely from my heart

Fear had trickled in

Fear of losing you, of losing everything

And so I did.

I manifested.

Not from love but fear.

I lost you, my job, my home

I lost everything that year.

And since found myself alone

A deep dark cloud consumed my mind

And soul turned into mush,

a haze settled over me

As living in a bog

I could not think clearly

My brain was filled with fog

Back East I became truly lost

No one could glue me back together

With modern medicine

And so you helped me find a psychic

A legit medical intuitive

He saved my life with his prescribed

Exercise and dietary changes

Years of therapy and meds took

To heal what from the root core

That night was shook

And 20 years it took to have a a conversation

Long last over due

Why did they all stop loving me?

Tell me why did you?

He said he never stopped loving me

He had not loved anyone in 20 years since

He said he never stopped

But inside I was not convinced

I saw him hanging with another

Was she your friend or your lover?

Was I not good enough?

He said he never cheated

It was me he truly loved

And so 20 years we still had

Felt so much for each other

He planned to come from South Carolina

Out West to visit me that summer

We talking about how he’d love Ojai

He meditated day and night(on love)

The holistic vibe and yoga

A Bodhisattva from above

He lived with joy, and love and humor

He passed suddenly that summer

I know I could search all the world

And never find such a beautiful soul

He meditated on “love for all of life”

I could search the Earth both far and wide

Tirelessly all day and night

For never another so loving and joyful

Anywhere in the World

I would ever find

Love you forever. In memory of Ian

You will always be the One ❤️

-Chachi

Hada fingered the jade-beaded subhah hanging from her neck as she skimmed the book in her lap. From afar, she heard the clang of dishes. She eyed the kitchen area, where her husband stood quizzically over a cast iron skillet and a thick old book of recipes they'd collected over the years. One of his hands was deeply rooted in his pulled-back blonde hair, while his other was securely between his teeth. Hada watched him shift between the book, the pan, and the two lobsters on the counter who were wandering slowly around their surroundings. He just so happened to look up, and both his hands went to his hips.

"You promised not to peak." His soft yet gruff Icelandic accent sent a soft chill up her spine. "Do you want to ruin our anniversary?"

"Of course not," she replied, mimicking his accent. He threw a piece of baguette at her, eliciting a giggle fit. "I'm just saying if you want to say you don't remember--"

"I remember, woman." His face was tinged with red, and his grip was tighter on his hair. "I just am having trouble paying attention because these little bastards won't stay still. Plus, it's been a minute since we read Old English."

"Well, we read Beowulf recently," Hada murmured.

"Ugh. Don't remind me. Stupid ass book."

"It's a classic!" Hada said, rolling her eyes playfully.

"Epic my ass. The dumbass who wrote it stayed anonymous for a reason."

"For all you know, I could've written it."

"As long as we've been together?" E's chuckle could be heard over the clanging of the pots. "I know your writing by now, love. And you write far better than that."

"Oh yeah?"

Hada slipped the ornate Scholastic bookmark back into her book and walked into the kitchen. She grabbed a cake pan and put both the lobsters in them so they were less likely to escape. The clamor of the pan on the counter made E jump, though he tried to hide it. Hada noticed anyway.

"Relax, my love." Hada chuckled. "Just didn't want my dinner to run away."

E looked towards the ground and placed the pot on the stove. "We talked about you taking over for me," he muttered, though Hada could tell he wasn't worried about the cooking anymore. He kept glancing at her, standing in some old boxers he had outgrown years ago and a tank top.

Hada giggled. "Yeah, because eating is what we look forward to on our anniversary."

"You are such a flirt," E said sarcastically.

He set the pot on the stove and peered back at the book. Hada watched him. While reading, he slipped the hazel rosary in and out of his mouth, lightly running his tongue against the shiny onyx beads separating them. E sprinkled salt in the pot and frowned. He mouthed a word, then looked towards the starry sky, trying to figure out what it meant. Hada started to help, but E shrugged it away and kept working. Hada looked down at the lobsters, who were curiously wandering the pan. The one who had continuously tried to escape had stopped and was trying to snip at the other's tail through the rubber band.

Hada smirked. The first time she had seen a lobster was in Rome. It was a few years into their marriage, though she still had to pretend she was E's slave. The pair had ended up on the shore of Rome helping Arabic merchants smuggle coffee into Italy without English boats catching. It was a night on the beach while they waited for a shipment. Hada had worn a shawl to hide her growing belly and was climbing up on a rock to see if she could see the boat when she nearly stepped on two mating lobsters. She had jumped back and screamed, and E had exclaimed that she had found them dinner.

E dropping something and swearing in Icelandic pulled Hada from her memory. "Fuck cooking!" he growled, kicking the ladle he dropped. He was clutching his palm tightly.

"What did you do?" Hada asked.

"Burnt my goddamn hand." E turned the stove off and grabbed the now-bent ladle. "Turned on the wrong fucking burner and then didn't realize the ladle was on it. Changed the burner then went to grab the ladle, and then--"

Hada quieted him by kissing him. "It's okay, baby. I'm not that hungry anyway."

"Are you sure?" E's voice was so soft she could barely hear him. She was rubbing his hand which was reddening.

She nodded and led him to the sink. She placed it under the cold water. "The lobsters will be okay for the night. I read on the interwebs they'll last a day and a half."

"We don't have a container for them."

"They'll be okay."

"The smaller one keeps trying to escape though. What if he does?"

"We'll find him. You need rest anyway." Hada rubbed E's hand gently. "I know reliving the 70s was hard."

"You only watch your wife get hepatitis once."

"Well, now you know how it felt when you got fucking cholera."

E ran his free hand through Hada's curly brown hair and planted a kiss on her head. "I wish I hadn't chosen to spend eternity with a woman with such a good memory."

Hada smiled. E's grip tightened on her hair and he kissed Hada's neck. "Don't think I didn't pick up on those cues earlier," he whispered in her ear.

She breathed heavily, then looked at him with a smug look. E had turned her loose and smacked her butt. "Don't look too excited. I just wanna cuddle right now."

She whimpered and made an annoyed face. "Rude."

"Don't get disrespectful now. I'm still mad you didn't listen to me about that crowd. I can't keep almost losing you, woman."

"We just end up back together," Hada said with an eye roll.

E shot her a stern look and continued over to the couch. He set her book on the coffee table and plopped down on his back. His feet hung off the couch, reminding her of the first time she'd seen him almost die. It was a few years after the Crusades, and his father had made a bad deal with the Muslims. Hada had been hiding in the back, instructed by E's father to not move from that spot or face getting gutted. Yet, seeing E laying motionless, bleeding out, she couldn't stop herself from running out and pleading in Arabic with the men to not kill E or his father.

Hada wet a paper towel that she set the lobsters on top of in the cake pan, then set it in the fridge. She dimmed the lights and went over to E. He was scrolling on his phone, though she could tell he wasn't paying any attention to what he was looking at. She tapped on his stomach.

"Is this spot taken?"

"I mean, you can sit here if you want. Sometimes there's pop-ups around there, but they subside."

Hada sat at the edge of the couch. E could hear her slowly scratching the soft ribbed fabric. "I'm sorry I ruined our anniversary, E."

"You're finally ready to talk about why you did that instead of doing this snarky shit? E hadn't looked away from the Facebook video explaining the right way to tie your shoes.

"I saw a little boy that looked like Adan," she murmured after a long time. Hada was twiddling with the cross on E's rosary. She ran her finger over the embossing of Adan's name on the little silver cross. "I didn't want to be sober anymore but knew it was hard on you."

E grabbed Hada's elbow gently and pulled her towards him. By the time her head hit his chest, she was a sniveling mess. E wiped his tears and pulled the rest of Hada's body onto him. He kissed her forehead and wiped her cheeks. He let Hada cry herself, only speaking to tell her it was okay and reassure her that he was not mad at her. After a few hours, her sobs had slowed to occasional sniffling breaths and soft sighs of sadness.

"I hate being cursed with forever," she murmured. She was playing with the pendant of the subhah, fingering the countless names of their children that they had lost carved in each of the hundred beads.

E was quiet for a long time. Then, in Amharic, he whispered to her, "You'll always have me. And our children will always have the experience of being raised by the best mother in the world."

"Thank you, baby." Hada was gently flicking her finger against his nipple. "I think I want to use protection tonight."

"I understand, love."