Grief Journal: For Love

“That one,” the wise little soul said, pointing.

The soul and the angel sat by a stream in a meadow, potential lives swirling around them like dandelion fluff blown on the warm breeze.

“Are you sure?” asked the angel, the hint of a frown on its perfect face. “It’s such a short life, not much time at all.”

“But look how bright it shines! See, its light echoes through so many lives, illuminating paths those souls wouldn’t have chosen otherwise,” he said. “Besides, it’s the only way to be with the souls I love in this lifetime. This is all that’s left. Except for being the dog, and I’m past that now.”

“Yes, you are,” the angel said affectionately. “Although you were an excellent dog and learned a lot about loyalty and unconditional love.”

“That’s just it,” he said. “This life is all about learning about love. She needs to learn that lesson, right? It’s why she chose it. I owe her; we owe each other. And look at all of the fun I get to have!”

The angel sighed. “She might learn the wrong lesson. She might think it’s about love not being enough.”

The wise little soul shook his head, stars sparking off from the energy of the motion. “No, I trust her. She will figure out that it’s about love being everything.”

“Well, if you’re sure,” the angel started to say.

But the wise little soul was already chasing after the life he had chosen, ready to be reborn and burn bright, if only briefly. For love. 

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