"I seem to have loved you in numberless forms, numberless times…
In life after life, in age after age, forever."
- Rabindranath Tagore
There's this old belief I heard once, or maybe read somewhere during one of those 2 AM rabbit holes online that we're given four chances to live a life.
Four whole lifetimes.
The first, to plant the seeds.
The second, to water them.
The third, to harvest.
And the last, to finally live off the fruits of everything we've done.
Sounds…poetic, doesn't it?
Some people say it's karma that what you do now, good or bad, might not come back until your next life. Or the one after that. Apparently, the universe has patience.
So basically, we're all works-in-progress…across centuries.
Which kind of explains a lot, if you think about it.
But here's the thing.
What no one ever warns you about is this:
What if, in all four lifetimes, you end up loving the same exact person?
What if your soul just goes,
"Yup. That one. Again."
Every. Single. Time.
Honestly, it feels a little unfair. The mind forgets like it's got a 'new life, who dis?' mentality. But the heart? No. The heart remembers everything. Every smile. Every goodbye. Every "what if."
And now, here I am. In this life. With this feeling I can't explain.
A face that feels familiar.
A laugh that hits somewhere deep.
A connection that makes zero sense…unless you believe in the impossible.
So maybe this is my third life. Or my fourth.
Maybe I've already loved and lost him more times than I can count.
But if I really do have four chances…
Then I sure as hell hope this is the one where we finally get it right.