Annemarie
I met my soul love in a bar through mutual friends. He suddenly stood before me. Towering, wild and blond, he asked me what he should say to the girl a few heads away. I was upset and said something along the lines that he really had to find out for himself. A moment later he was again in front of me. It wasn’t that one girl. I had to go home with him after some steps with a number of ‘common others’.
After stepping, I set foot in his house with the others. I could cry. Everything was right. It was a messy,
cluttered, medieval house. A large fireplace on the right. A long room filling table in the middle. The smell, the impression, the feeling. A dog met me. We sat at the long table with the others. Many bottles of liquor on the table. Fire and candles. We were alone in the company and had no eye for the others. This had nothing to do with falling in love. It was bigger and farther than that.
From the start it was pushing and pulling. He made me more beautiful and I him. We complemented each other in an indescribable
way. Could be hours together. Time and space did not exist. At other times, external factors brought us back to reality. His friends were not mine and vise versa. We could also clash enormously. Then we let each other simmer with abdominal cramps until one of us then approached again. Then everything was fine again without too many words. The moment I met my soulmate I was alone.
Almost five months after our meeting, my soulmate had the cancer back. He was resolute. He was familiar with it and I didn’t have to be sucked into it. Weeks and weeks away (sick of falling in love) I decided that I would not want to be there for him as a ‘girlfriend’ girlfriend. Knowing my added value. I could help him with advice and deed. Be there for him. Even though that was quite a lot with our busy, full lives.
We have never been clear to both of us about the kind of relationship we wanted. Very crazy! We were both unconsciously very busy pushing the other away from us. When I approached, he pushed me away and vice versa. The moments we admitted to each other were not discussed. It also surprised me that we started living together when after three years I (no) relationship turned out to be pregnant. We spoke to each other for the first time about a kind of future.
We had two children and have been together from day one and separately. I can not explain. He was all-embracing. He made me more beautiful without being aware of it. We were not only stupidly sweet to each other. We took the skin off each other’s nose if we thought the other person could benefit from it. There has not been a day in my life with him that I would not have given my own life for his. Not even when we were parents of two children.
He taught me to let go. To live in the total here and now. No expectations. Wanting to give without expecting anything in return. Absolute love has taught me that all material does not matter. If you have each other, you have everything.
Everything that happened, was experienced by us, was felt without it having to be said.
The eroticism was, oddly enough, less important. It was there and I enjoyed it, but if it wasn’t there it was good too. Walking through a Swedish forest together, or refueling along the highway abroad felt just as special as sex. We were connected.
When my husband, the father of my children (although I had never dared to dream that) became very ill, I flew with him. I wanted to take it over from him so much that he and I were able to have fierce discussions with each other right up to the last minute. We felt we were just as deep in it. He would die, but so would I. He would not be there for me to hold me. He told me exactly what he wanted me to do after his death and I told him exactly what I would do when it came to that. We have never talked about ONS as much as in recent times.
When my soulmate finally died after a fierce and long period of manic life and illness, I felt an
indescribable wholeness. A euphoric love. The same one that I felt when he was alive. I also often told people that I had not lost my love, but that I had taken his love with me. Everybody dies. I did not want to commemorate his suffering. I wanted to pass on the love he had given me. Selfless and beyond death.
I noticed at a certain point that I realized that the relationship my soulmate and I had was not normal. I am now four years old and a few men further. I have so much love to give, but I find that I don’t find the right recipient. They are all on a slightly different frequency. Very crazy. Fortunately I was alone. Now I have decided that I have known enough love for a lifetime. If it ever passes by, I will be open to it. If it does not pass, it is also good. I don’t settle for less.