To Sever A Soul Tie

He packed his bags—the bags under his eyes resembling that of a raccoon—and under the moonlight, he began his climb. 

Mount Hope is where he was told to go if he wanted to sever a soul tie. So to the top of Mount Hope was where he was going.

After a few steps, it started snowing. With his head down, he kept going. 

It was a lady in his dreams—a lady who was made of light—that told him to climb Mount Hope in hopes of severing his soul tie. 

The wind howled fiercely, piercing his naked face. With his head down, he kept going. 

Unable to feel much physically due to the pain in his soul, he hardly noticed it when his fingers froze. 

He climbed, all while running through a maze in his mind. 

He climbed, all while dying on the inside. 

He climbed Mount Hope in hopes of finding a way to sever his soul tie. 

The snow, the fog, the ice, the elevation, the wind, the mist: it all hit. Exhausted, he stumbled. 

Broken, he was humbled. 

Her ghost came to him on the first night. She told him to fight for her. She told him they belong together. She told him she still loved him. She asked him not to try to find a way to sever their soul tie. 

But when the morning finally came, he started to climb. 

With his head down, he took step after step after step, hungry for the top—desperate for the pain inside to stop. 

On the second day, he sprained his ankle, twisting it on a rock. Limping, he continued up the mountain. It was steep, but he willed himself to move his feet. 

Her ghost followed closely behind, only speaking to him in whispers in his mind. 

He missed her. He missed more than he had ever missed anything. He missed her more than food. He missed her more than water. He missed her more than life. He missed her more than he missed himself . . . But it was too late, their love had died. This is why he makes the climb to sever his soul tie. He has to let her go. He has to give up hope. 

They had loved each other truly. And now their souls were tied. But without her here, he needed to sever the tie. So he continued to climb. 

The top of Mount Hope got further and further away. He thought was going crazy. He thought he’d die while trying to sever this soul tie. Still, he climbed. He had to leave his old life behind. So in his mind, if he died, he died. 

Oh well, he thought, At least it’ll be warm in hell. 

It was then the wind whispered to him. “Where does she begin and you end? And where do you begin and she ends?”

“I don’t know,” he told the wind. 

“Then begin the climb again,” said the wind. 

And he did. 

He climbed and climbed and climbed, somehow, still alive. 

“Do you still have hope?” the wind asked him.

“I don’t know . . .” he told the wind. 

“Then start the climb again.”

And he did. 

While trying to lose hope, his toes froze. He couldn’t feel his feet. He couldn’t feel his hands. 

Starving, he limped onward. 

A black wolf started to stalk him. Whenever he started to slow, it would growl at him; fear would find him and he’d press up the mountain again. 

On the third night, a single star shone brightly in the sky. As he stared at it, it became alive. He felt its light. He felt its warmth. He felt its presence with him—a conscious presence. 

The star watched him without speaking. And then it exploded, lighting up the night sky for a moment, before folding into itself, disappearing forever. 

Five baby stars and one planet were born out of it. For some reason, he felt hopeful as he watched the new stars being born. 

When he woke on the fourth day, the top of Mount Hope seemed closer and the wolf had turned from black to white. 

The storm worsened. 

He slowed. 

The wolf growled.

  He picked up the pace. 

This repeated all day. 

And then finally, at the end of the fourth day, he made it to the top. 

He turned to the wolf and smiled—his first smile since her and he hugged each other for the final time. 

The wolf nodded before speaking. “You cannot sever a soul tie,” it said in a deep gravelly voice. “You can only continue to climb. Whether she walks alongside you or not is solely up to her. But now you know that you can make the climb alone. Now you no longer fear the mountain. Now you no longer fear letting her go. Now you can figure out where you begin and she ends—where she begins and you end. Now you can go home without a hole in your soul. And son?” the wolf asked him. 

The man nodded and waited, unable to speak. 

“Will you remember something for me?”

The man nodded again. 

“Don’t you dare to ever mistake her uncertainty for your inadequacy. Don't you ever do that.”

         The man nodded again before heading down Mount Hope. 

CH 1/9/26