In my dreams, I often meet the soul of that who I’m meant to be with. My soulmate, if you will

I’m not sure if he’s here, or ever will be here. But he’s there when I close my eyes and when I need it the most

It’s always the same place; in a sort of library, with multiple levels, hallways that go on forever, and stairs that seem to lead to nowhere. Candles adorn the corners, and there doesn’t seem to be a ceiling. It looks to fade into what almost resembles the night sky

And in the midst of all of the baggage, heavy packed away trauma, and pain that I support every day, he walks up calmly to me. Gently placing one hand to cup my cheek, while the other goes to the small of my back to draw me closer in an embrace. And in that moment, I realize how touch deprived I’ve been

I close my eyes, my breath hitching as I release the tension within my chest. He presses his forehead to mine, and does not go after me in a sexual nature in the way that others always have. In the same way that I’ve been conditioned to do as well. He simply holds me, gently rubbing my back and caressing my cheek, as I painstakingly liberate myself of the burdens life has placed within my heart

Then, when I am ready, he helps me begin to inspect all of the parcels, boxes, luggage, drawers, anything inside the nooks and crannies of my mind. To process them, provide the proper attention to them, and then release them

Occasionally, we run across beautiful memories and moments, forgotten for quite some time but still treasured none the less as we smile, giggling and reminiscing amongst ourselves. Some moments tender, bittersweet. And we hold one another, letting the moment replay as often as needed until we are ready to release it

Others have been broken, sharp edges that cut my fingers as I try to handle the damaged memory again. They are difficult to hold, cutting deep as blood spills over the edges of my fingertips and palms to the ground. I sob in agony, but he does not run or chide me for my outburst. He takes some of the burden upon himself, bleeding with me, regardless of it not being his responsibility

He chuckles with me, holds me, supports me. He loves me, truly. And above all, he is my best friend

When I wake, however, he does not exist. And while it leaves my heart aching and burning, I know I’ll see him again when I need it most

Even so, I can’t help but think sometimes how different my life would be if I could only find him in this lifetime. How much more beautiful everything could be, if life were gentle