Our Souls Were Like Magnets

frank mckenna

I will never forget the first moment I saw you, like an electric shock, a bright light, a buzz in the air both soft and heavy, filling the space around us. I’ve never believed in love at first sight, only lust, because lust is dependent upon the physical, those first moments of looking at someone’s face, their body, their smile, and not quite knowing their heart, but wanting them just the same—that’s not love, but attraction, chemistry.

But it was different with you.

Because when I looked at you, I didn’t see your body. I didn’t see the scruff on your chin or the veins in your arms. I didn’t see your calloused hands, the sweat on your forehead, the gentle way you walked. I didn’t notice your height, slightly above mine, or your arms, strong enough to lift me.

When I looked at you, I swear I saw your soul. I saw your story. I saw hundreds of moments of laughter and pain behind those light hazel-green eyes. I saw who you had been and who you are still becoming. I saw who I could be in your arms.

It wasn’t love at first sight. It wasn’t desire. It wasn’t a physical attachment, sparking a fire between us. The only way I can explain it was that our bodies suddenly knew each other, our hearts suddenly felt at ease. It was like we were connected before we even spoke words to one another.

Our souls were like magnets, drawn together by some unexplainable pull.

And I wish I could relive that first moment over and over again. I wish I could shut my stupid mouth and say nothing, just let our bodies be guided to one another, our smiles cover all time and place. I wish I could bring back the innocence, the unknown, the way we were so eager, so unexplainably tied to one another before we even said hello.

Because I’ve never felt anything so real before, so raw. I’ve never met a person whose simple existence could make me feel alive.

And I want to hold onto that.
I want to remember that feeling.

I want to know that even if we don’t work out or make sense, love doesn’t have to be mediocre.

Because all my life I’ve been searching for love, not knowing that it could feel like this. Not knowing that there are people who really will set us on fire with the intensity of their heart. Not knowing that we don’t have to settle for anything less.

Our souls were like magnets. We were drawn together from the start and our words flowed effortlessly. Our laughter filled the room. Our smiles were so warm everyone around us felt that energy. It was easy, which I couldn’t understand. Maybe it’s because life tells us love is hard and people are difficult, and until you meet the right one, you believe those lies. You believe that everything has to be taken with caution, handled with care, calculated and manipulated and twisted because it’s just that complicated.

But it wasn’t that way with you.

I hope you know what I felt was real.

That when I close my eyes, I still feel it—the dizziness, the rush of my heart, the way the room seemed to fade, to focus in on you. The way my body took unconscious steps forward, bridging the space between us. The way I opened my mouth and words poured out without me thinking. The way you seemed to already know exactly what I was going to say. The way we hugged, the way it felt natural. The way our lives seemed to fold into one another, speaking truths we were both longing to hear.

It wasn’t love at first sight, but connection—connection of both body and soul.

And no matter how far I wander, I’ll never forget those first moments, when nothing and everything made sense all at once.

I was pulled to you, in ways I still can’t understand. It was the hands of fate resting on our shoulders, turning us into one another’s view. We were connected—mind, body, soul—and it was real, still is real, will always be real, for me. TC mark

Marisa Donnelly is a poet and author of the book, Somewhere on a Highway, available here.

Marisa Donnelly

Marisa is a writer, poet, & editor. She is the author of Somewhere On A Highway, a poetry collection on self-discovery, growth, love, loss and the challenges of becoming.

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