I don’t know if I believe so much in the ‘soulmates’ of the fairytale nature. I believe there are people that recognize and know each other…and never figure out quite why. There’s a connection, just an inherent knowing that can’t be explained in this life.
I had one of those connections, a massive one, and he killed himself on September 28, 2007. He stuck a .357 in his mouth, and blew his head to pieces. Blunt? Too blunt? That’s how it happened, and that’s what happened.
If there was ever a male psyche/soul to my female, Mike was it. Peas in a pod so to speak, except he was a bit more brutal and more of a risk-taker than I will ever be. I loved him in a way and to a depth that today still amazes me. We, however, were not meant to be together in this lifetime, a couple.
There were moral issues, and we both had another, but things were so bad for each of us in different ways in our then relationships, that it didn’t matter. I made a conscious choice to owe my piper. I jumped in feet first, and loved him with complete abandonment. For seventeen years, he was my friend, and more, and sometimes not, but I never stopped loving him. Stupidly, I always thought he’d be somewhere in this world…if our chance ever became a genuine reality. Sometimes that’s what you get for thinking.
We lost contact in 98, for almost 6 years. Never stopped loving him, but it had become one of those kinds of love that you gently push to the back of the shelf…you know it’s there, but something in your soul knows that’s where it needs to be for the time being.
I lived out of the country for a year and a half, then in 2000 finally moved back to Kentucky. I married my current husband (I only have one ex, and he is/was an alcoholic ass) when we moved back, and got on with living life. Then one day in the winter of 2004, something just urged me to get in touch with Mike. I hunted around, and asked around until I got his number. Frankly? He was on a television show on A&E, and when I saw him I felt drawn to call him. Not to see him, as we had before, but to call him.
He was surprised to hear from me, needless to say. We talked for a few months, just at the odd time, but he kept begging me to meet him somewhere. I did. Once, for probably less than ten minutes. I knew to see him again, would destroy my husband, and my marriage, so I didn’t. We talked a few more months, everytime him begging me to at least go have a coffee with him. I refused, I had to, because I knew he was the biggest weakness in the world for me. During one of our last conversations he was talking about ‘us’, and how it was probably best that we hadn’t ever formally gotten together, because as much alike as we were we probably would have ended up killing each other. I disagreed, but left it alone and just idly commented that we’d never know.
One Sunday in the winter of 2006, he called my house drunk, on his ass drunk, and talked to my husband. He pretended it was a wrong number, but the name he used when saying who it was and who he was looking for, I knew it was him. I was furious, I was frantic, and I never talked to him again.
He called my house often from that winter up until probably July of 2007, then he quit calling.
When I injured my back, prior to the surgery, I was going to Nashville for epidurals. On Friday, September 28, 2007 I was in Nashville at St. Thomas hospital getting an epidural. Also on Friday, September 28, 2007, after Mike shot himself and was discovered, he was life-flighted to Vanderbilt Hospital, also in Nashville. The hospital I was at, and the hospital he was at, you could see one from the other.
Soulmates? Do I believe in them? I don’t know, perhaps on some level, on some other plane. But sometimes connections, even at the end, can be overwhelmingly obvious.
My life changed the day that I found out, the following day. The ‘me’ that was, ceased to be. It wasn’t a conscious choice, but there was a part of me, a piece of my soul that died the day he decided this world was too much. I still love life, but it’s different now, not as bright, as promising.
But, I choose life, every fucking day, I choose life.
Sometimes it takes great courage just to get up in the morning. Great Faith and Great Determination are sometimes nothing more than that. Thank you for your heartspoken words Robin.
"As Sul grew up, she always kept a perfectly clear mind. Outside, her actions were ordinary actions; inside her mind was the mind of a Bodhisattva. Eventually she married and raised a large, happy family, all of whom were devout Buddhists. Many people came to her for help and teaching. She became known as a great Zen Master.
On day, when she was an old woman, her granddaughter died. She cried bitterly during the funeral and kept crying back at her home, as the visitors filed past to offer their condolences. Everyone was shocked. Soon they were whispering. Finally one of them went up to her and said, "You have attained the great enlightenment, you already understand that there is neither death nor birth. Why are you crying? Why is your granddaughter a hindrance to your clear mind?"
Sul immediately stopped crying and said, "Do you understand how important my tears are? They are greater than all the sutras, all the words of the Patriarchs, and all possible ceremonies. When my granddaughter hears me crying, she will enter Nirvana." Then she said to all the visitors, "Do you understand this?"
No one understood."
- From 'Dropping Ashes on the Buddha' by Zen Master Seung Sahn
Thank you my friend. xoxo