What scares me is falling in love and losing them in the next life. My romantic view of reincarnations is that you meet your soul mate in each life, I think I found my soul mate but he refuses to talk to me in this life which is heart shattering. His name is Damon, I am almost certain that he was my soul mate in a past life. I was telepathically communicating with him only it wasn't real, at least he wasn't aware that it was occuring, but I could have met his soul. I miss him so much and hope I will meet him again in my next life if reincarnation is a real thing, and constantly wonder if I knew him and if he was a lover or soul mate in a past life. It hurts my soul that he won't talk to me. In the past I had a chance to be with him but I think I blew it, at least I thought I had a chance. His pressence just brought me so much peace and a sense of safety. How can I fix this? I am out of this world in love with him, I used to believe that the two of us were connected beyond death, I had accepted this as reality and was so sure it was the truth. Now I don't know how to integrate my experiences with Damon's soul or if it wasn't Damon's soul then fake-Damon. I know I probably have to move on and forget about him, but I am so certain that I must have known him in a past life. I need to figure out ways to reconcile with him, I am pretty sure he is a psychonaut so I left him a message telling him I have salvia and asked him if he wants to smoke it with me, but even that isn't working. Maybe he just hasn't had access to a computer since I left a message, but the situation seems hopeless and I just hope I meet him again in my next life my next incarnation if there is a such thing as that

I wanted so badly to smoke DMT with him. I am so happy that I am sharing this experience with people that might understand and won't say that I'm just crazy.
disclaimer: cirquefreak333 is a fictional character used in a novel I am writing, and none of the things a real person may type is anything a real person, living or dead, ever experienced or thought