Intertwined

The penny drops before you can start to recognise who is in front of you. You know them from a time when you didn't know who you are now, they knew you before you met yourself. And on the drop, the time stops, capturing the longing of those two souls that made a pact for eternity: to find each other in every life.

And when you find them in this life, there is no possible future where they don't belong with you, in a tiny corner, blurred, faint light that warms your cheek like a Spring morning sun, or perhaps the water of a wild river that you hold in your hands before splashing violently on your face, knowing very well that the coldness of it will wake you up, annoy you and then free you for a second or two.

The understanding comes later, after the fear of losing it all to remembering past lives, the fear of watching your days crumble down after pulling from that ancient cord that you can't let go of. You don't have a choice: whether you detonate reason and run away to the places where the beast lies or you hold your breath for long enough that the pain in your lungs saves you from such urge, you will find each other over and over again.