There is an old and very wise Native American saying: Every time you point a finger in scorn—there are three remaining fingers pointing right back at you.

The soul is the immortal part of us. It recycles, over and over again from what I've seen, but it never dies. We're meant to strive beyond the physical world, not... not settle for it and only it.

Deep down inside, my heart knew the score. And I know that Haven was wrong. It's not always a case of one loving more than the other. When two people are truly meant to be, they love equally. Differently - but still equal.

I’m always thinking about what I’m missing. Even when I’m happy with what I have.

It's not that kind of love. It's the real kind. The unconditional kind. The nonjudgemental kind. Not the physical kind. I love you as a fellow soul who inhabits this earth. I love you as a fellow immortal. I love you because I finally understand what made you the way you are. And if I could change it, I would. But I can't—so I choose to love you instead. And my hope is that my acceptance of you will spur you to do something good too, but if not—" I shrug. "At least I can say I tried.

Either way, we'll ride out together. That's how it is with soul mates. Thats just what they do.

Today's worries are yesterday's fears and tomorrow's stories.