I Waited in This Life Too

Dedication For the soul I’ve met in every lifetime but never got to keep. And for the ones who waited — in silence, in longing, in love that never left their hearts. You weren’t wrong to believe. You just remembered something no one else did. Prologue I was fifteen when I first saw him — not in the waking world, but in a dream so vivid, it settled into my memory like it had always been there. The kind of dream you never forget, because some part of you whispers this is real. In the dream, I was in a place that didn’t belong to time. A meadow beneath a lavender sky, with stars flickering like they were breathing. There was a lake, still as glass, reflecting a moon that looked bigger than the sky could hold. I stood on its shore, barefoot, the hem of my gown soaked in dew. Not a modern dress — but something out of a different century. Heavy silk, soft laces. I looked like someone from a story long forgotten. And then — I turned. He was already there. On a horse, tall and still, watching me. I didn’t know his name. I had never seen his face before. But I knew him. Deeply. Instinctively. As though my soul had been searching for him in every crowd I’d ever walked through. He dismounted slowly, never taking his eyes off me. There was no fear, no doubt, only a stillness — like we had both arrived. I felt warmth rush into my chest as he stepped closer. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. We danced. No music. No words. Just the rhythm of two beings who had known each other before names, before countries, before time began counting years. I looked into his eyes, and the world disappeared. In his gaze, I found every emotion I had never felt in waking life — love, safety, devotion, and something else… a promise. Wait for me. I’ll find you again. When I woke up, I cried. Not because it was over, but because I knew it wasn’t just a dream. From that moment on, I waited. Not actively. Not dramatically. Just quietly — a secret thread running through my life, pulling me forward. I saw glimpses of him in strangers. I searched for his eyes in passing faces. Every now and then, he’d return in my sleep. On a boat. In a forest. Across a battlefield. Always looking at me like he remembered too. I didn’t know when, or how, but I believed I would meet him again. In this life. In this skin. In a moment I couldn’t plan. And I did.