The Never Ending Tails
The Space between Souls is Made of Silent Suffering

Someuniverses can be cruel places. Places where lives are chattered and destiniesare unraveled, places where dreams go to die in the inevitability of therealization that they are nothing but ideas void of reality.

In theearth of one of those universes, two lives were made to cross and enact themost tragic of plays. The two souls would resonate when close to each other,and leave the seeds for dreams not meant to be to grow like weed in the gardenof their minds.

The twosouls met by accident, but the accident only brought them together to pull themapart in a flash. Meanwhile, the biological machines, the human vessels of theresonant souls created images strong enough to leave an idea behind. As bothcontinued their ways and their separate routines, the dream seeds grewinvisible to their conscious mind.

The worldput them together again, this time was different, this time they would be closeand would see each other as much as they would want, and maybe the dream seedswould shine through and cross to become realities.

But evenif the idea stuck and even if the two souls were resonant, they weren’t thesame. They were two very different lines of possibilities that created two verydifferent people. Only them could see through the veil of life and witness thesimilarities of their souls.

The linesdiverged, one alone and one crossed with another. And so when they met again,there was no space for dreams, only the silent suffering of the missedpossibilities, and the missed peacefulness of losing themselves in each otherand grow both fueled by their bond.

The lonesoul waited for the one who didn’t wait. They both played the game ofconviviality wearing faces of salt and faces of marble, attending an imaginarywedding that was never to be over.

The othersoul couldn’t bear her current partner anymore, he wasn’t the man she fell inlove with anymore. Did she ever fell in love with him? Yes, but it was soquick, and the convenience of distance became her charm to make her assumptionsreal, and keep the story going.

Notanymore, he became too attached, too close, and too real. The man she loved wasno longer a man, only the personification of everything that annoyed her about him.He was feeding of her like a parasite, and he was getting hungrier, so she cutthe rope that bound them and now she was free. Now maybe she could let thedream seeds grow and resonate with her resonant soul.

The lonesoul was waiting and waiting, and so he waited for almost all his life. When hefound a resonant, he couldn’t believe his waiting was to be over, that thegates of happiness were so close to him. But then life slapped him in the facewith the realization that once again, like every faint time hopped would haveappeared, he was too late. Worst! He was a slow bastard, and there was the keyto all his previous failures, too late to notice, too late to act, too late toreact, and life passes by.

When hisresonant soul was finally free, when he finally started to do something, andpush the slowness of his world toward higher momentum, he was cut short. Hisresonant soul wasn’t one to wait, she wasn’t one to bear being alone and notentangled. She quickly found replacement and once again opened the gates oflimbo.

The lonesoul who stayed alone so long finally got used to the company of his resonant,and already she was gone to the arms of another, she tried to hide it, but thewhispers weren’t low enough to dodge his sharp ears. He didn’t say anythingbecause she didn’t want to say anything, and the play continued. The moment ofimprovisation where everything was possible was gone. The two were back totheir routines, meeting less and less, forgetting the moment when there was nospace anymore between them, no suffering, only the bliss of resonating beyondthe daily play of what destiny dictated.

Theirmeeting was an accident meant to grow dream seeds, but the blossom of the dreamseed remained invisible, fueling the void of the space between souls…