A Kiss Never Changed

Chapter 𝐼

We're born, we live, we die and then we're born again. It's a repetitive cycle that cannot be broken because of the rules of logic and science or the work of God for those who believe.
I personally believe that God doesn't exist. I was born into the religion, of course, my first living being in the 1800s, but I also never found the pleasure of putting all my time and effort into something that may not even be. Of course, who am I to judge if someone wants to believe in Him. I'm happy for them. 

Religion is a lot like the saying 'The glass half full, or half empty.' You either see it as a good thing that brings people together, good or bad. Or it spawns hateful people and is viewed as a cult.

I'm pretty sure I'm in the middle. Though I can't exactly explain in words many people would comprehend.

The world is so... Full. It's overpopulated by morons, spoiled children and politics. By criminals, murderers, and psychopaths. Honestly, we need a good 'reset' button.

But will that happen? No, of course not that would be too easy.

I've lived six different lives. This one will be my seventh. It hurts to know who I am once I see a small part of one of my old lives. So far, I've figured out three, of course, they were followed by the memories of the past. 

Childhood stories of princes on white horses and princesses stuck high in towers. Begging to be saved by their one and only. If only it were that simple.

I've been a slave, treated like royalty to the royal Princess. I've been a fighter in World War II, I lost the fight as a hero. I figured this one out in a history lesson.

 I've been a child working in a factory, wanting to get away from the abuse. The only reason this one came to me was that I passed by a factory and a child walked out. It was a total coincidence that gave me the headache of figuring out what year that was. Turned out it was the beginning of the 17th century 

My favourite life must've been the one where I was a veterinarian. I remember this one dog that would curl up in my lap when I would be taking naps in one of the rooms. His name was Pumpkin, he was the sweetest little thing I'd ever met. My first dog, Stewart was the one that triggered it somehow.

It's a burden, to know the way things were. Britannia never knows, I wish to keep it that way for as long as possible. 

I'm not even quite sure how this curse came to be. Maybe we're soulmates, destined to find each other no matter the way the world pushes us. But to be quite frank, I always hated soulmate stories. Always so cliche and overwritten. Bland, boring, sappy. 

Why couldn't mine be any different? Couldn't I have changed in this stupid world? How hard could it be to delete me from the script and let her live a free life?

I've tried to separate myself, to redirect the way things are headed, but I can never let myself get too far. The fear of her being someone else's hurts far greater than not having a chance with her in the lifetime I have at that moment. 

She deserves better than someone that dies the moment things are perfect. Everything slowly falls into pieces like a perfect puzzle that lost the one piece that brings everything together. It reminds me of that one star that you stare out, that first star that seems to make your night just a small bit better. 

Or like toast that's perfectly brown, with the perfect about of butter. I spread it out with a butter knife and mentally force myself out of my thoughts. 

I grab a plate from one of my cabinets, setting it on the oven before placing the toast on top. I brush my teeth, grab my uniform and grab my keys from off the counter. I start the car, roll down my window halfway so the wind brushes out my hair half-assed and drive.