The first time I saw him, we were twelve and I was asleep.

He was beautiful, though not in a standard way— more ‘pretty’ than ‘handsome’, really, beautiful in the way a fish ought to be beautiful. He had blue eyes.

When he spoke for the first time, he spoke like they speak in a dream— the sounds were like English, the accent was right, but the words had no meaning that I could discern.

I’d always been a vivid dreamer. It was one of the best dreams I’d had thus far.

The second time I saw him, we were sixteen and I was delirious with the flu.

He was tall and delicate, with fine black hair that had grown longer since I’d last seen him. He stood behind a desk, looking nervous and even paler than usual. He had blue eyes.

“Is this working?” He whispered, almost desperately, with a small laugh at the end. His accent was thick and impossible to place.

“You speak!” I exclaimed through the drowsy haze of fever.

He laughs again, a little louder this time. “I taught myself. It is old and strange. The ancient language.”

I catch sight of a calendar—maybe?— on translucent blue film behind him. The date reads 12-24-1099AE.

“What does that mean?” I slur dizzily, pointing behind him.”

He glances back at the calendar. “It is… kel-in-dur. Your word. It shows time.”

“No, what day is it?”

He shakes his head. “I do not know the word in your days.”

“Oh, ‘cause for me it’s November 4th 2012.” I slur with a dull smile. “I’m home sick.”

He looks worried. “Sick? Do not some people in your time die of sick?”

“Not a lot,” I reply. “Maybe in the real olden days.”

“I will search it up.” He affirms with a sigh. “Please be safe. I hope you get better from sickness.” He sighs, muttering something that might be a swear word under his breath. I fall back asleep.

Then I was seventeen and everyone was pairing off, couple-on-couple, as soulmates were found and plans were made. Everyone marries their soulmate, eventually. That’s just the way it works, I guess. I saw him as I was tossing and turning the night before exams. He wore a shimmering teal jacket and red eyeliner, unusually flattering on him. God, he was beautiful this time.

He had blue eyes.

“I have figured out something!” He says lightly, yet triumphantly, his accent not nearly as strong as it was a year ago. “We live about two to three millennia apart.”

I feel cold all of a sudden. “You’re a time traveler?”

He makes an odd face, impossible to interpret. “Not exactly. More of a dream-traveler… and I think you might be my… soul-mate?”

We spend the rest of the morning talking.

He’s really funny.

His eyes sparkle when he laughs, but only when it’s genuine. He’s a bad liar, but an amazing mathematician. He draws really well, and he likes bugs, especially the colorful ones.

His name is Khirid. He told me to call him Kieran if I can’t pronounce it, but I can.

If he is my soulmate, I’m starting to think it isn’t such a bad thing.

I am eighty-nine and I’ve been seeing him for the good part of a century.

I learned so much about him. If ever I loved someone who I will never hold, never kiss, never see or hear while I wake… it was Khirid. The boy with the blue eyes, who will be born more than two thousand years after I die and live more than three times as long as the people of my time.

The last time I saw him, I was ninety-six and slipping into death.

Through the last of my breath he came to me, hardly middle-aged despite his years which numbered twice that.

The love of my life, I suppose.

“Don’t go,” he said weakly. “Please.”

“I would stay if I could,” I croak. “I would wait the three thousand years for you.”

The last thing I see is his blue eyes.

It’s the loveliest send-off I could have dreamed of.