Love Stories Life writes

How I stumbled into my own yet unfinished love story

I have been single for almost 4 years now. My last story has taken place on an other continent and got ended by the global pandemic, us both finding ourselves each in his own country without the other. The physical separation, subsequently led to the real ending, as we both found we could not maintain things on the long distance. The energy between us could not hold up against time and space. After all, looking back, I know that I was never really in love with that guy. I did love him, found him cool, I had compassion for his story, but there have not been butterflies and excitement. It was a more solid kind of love with mutual liking and getting along well, having travelling adventures together and mastering daily life. I´m this type of person, to find love and compassion for humans in general. Its not necessary romance what pulled me to him. For a few month we even set up house together in Morocco, we had a whirlwind kind of love, but it all got blown away by the winds of change in early 2020 and every single plan we had together turned out to be a pipe dream. Looking back, I miss the adventures and the idea of us, but I never felt a deep connection. Neither did he I guess. In the years of lockdown separation I could hardly connect to him, I did not feel him and I almost never had dreams of him. That`s probably because we were not meant to be and because he could not muster up the soul strength for me, being kind of the living day by day practical guy. Our contact was sporadic and it faded away by itself. Besides him still stalking me on social media, there is nothing left by now.

Once late summer 2022 came, I was ready to leave my hometown Berlin, where I felt imprisoned and in a standstill time bubble. I wrote about how these things resolved in other articles on this platform. I was living in a stuck side arm of the great river of life, not being on the big flow of life any more, I felt disconnected. I was gradually decaying, so breaking out and going on travel has saved me.

But back to the love stories. I did not think that life will bring me one more crazy love. After the practical experience with my ex, I thought that “crazy love” was done for me.

Sometimes Life is writing love stories that are wilder and more crazy than fiction. At least for those who have the courage, the nerve, the passion and the drive. And the capacity to carry and stand a big love story. It’s certainly not for everyone. Some will have a quite life and the love story will go like “they met on a dating app and they stayed together. Until they didn’t“.

Some don’t believe in love and will have sexual encounters only. And a rather cynical life. Others will crave love but will not be able to get close to it, separated from it by invisible walls of a prison they had built themselves. Others are craving the depth of a real epic love story that will shake their world and they will manifest one.

Deep down I must have been craving it. “Is that all Universe!?” my soul must have cried out. Anyhow, I was too numbed by pain to know it consciously.

Those destined lovers will live the magical fated love stories that are written in old novels for eternity — eventually. The ones that are overcoming obstacles, time and anything in the way. The stories that will raise the level of living and sometimes the level of suffering equally.

I always wanted to write such a novel, but I was lacking inspiration. I did not know how such a love story goes, even i had my own tragic story in a distant country a few years ago.

„to write one is to know one” — well maybe one day I will know.

I do not see too many of these Special love stories. Nothing that inspires me at least.

Until I become the one in such a romance novel myself. Quite likely I already am in one, I slipped into it without knowing it. Continuation and results unknown yet.

The story unfolds as I go. The components of such a story are feeling an instant connection to a stranger, being led to places by invisible guides, feeling a deep pull without any outer reason. Having the most incredible encounters and coincidences. Knowing something certainly in the heart that we cannot know in our mind.

The author of this story is certainly not me, it’s something bigger than little me. Nonetheless, the author was kind enough to choose a marvelous setting too, including good coffee and dogs. I’m patiently or not quite patiently waiting for the next chapter.

And Rumi, the poet, knew all about it. This is how I feel too.