The truth about soulmates .

I can feel him, I feel Gary Paul Costello all the time. 

Not just in the way you feel someone’s memory, not just in the way a song pulls you back to a moment you loved. I feel him now — here, in this moment — and I know he’s sobbing.

The pull in my chest, the hollow under my ribs, the sting at the back of my throat… they aren’t mine alone. They’re his too. My pain is his pain. My craving is his craving. What I want from him, he wants from me — the same hunger, the same need.

This is the truth no one warned me about when they spoke of soulmates and twin flames. They tell you about the joy, the recognition, the fire. They don’t tell you about the ache that gnaws at you when you’re apart, the kind that doesn’t fade with time. They don’t tell you that even after betrayal, hurt, and silence, the cord between you still holds — too strong to be unbroken, too deep to be cut.

I have tried to let go. I begged Wallah to cut the bond, but he wouldn’t. He couldn’t. He told me what I already knew: this isn’t just a thread between two souls. This is the root of an ancient tree, the kind that grows through lifetimes, through worlds, through galaxies. It is rare. It is eternal. And it is ours.

Today, I know he’s suffering. I know it’s hitting him as hard as it’s hitting me. And strangely, that gives me peace — not because I want him to hurt, but because it proves that I have never been alone in this. He feels what I feel. He misses my touch as much as I miss his. He wants to hold me as much as I want to be held.

They say what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. This bond has killed me a thousand times and brought me back stronger every time. And I believe now, more than ever, that true love never dies.