When people think of souls, they think of their inevitable departure from their human shell, their animated forms – how, one day, the soul will be floating listlessly through the atmosphere, perhaps landing in another body, rising up to the Golden Gates, falling into a bleak, irreparable, inescapable fate, or simply spending the rest of eternity exploring the earth and its bounds.

What they often forget is the tales this soul will have to tell of the person or other assorted creature, to whom it once gave life, was once the essence of. They forget that you have to care for your soul, feed it happiness, love and adventure, in order for it to soar high out of the body after reluctantly letting its last grips fade from the capsule that gave it a solid mass. Without proper care, the soul will stumble and stutter, and be unable to glide into the next body with ease, creating an ill-formed foundation for the inhabitant.

~~

Namjoon knew that his soul had bumps and bruises, some grazes here and there and perhaps just wasn’t whole in various areas. As a firm believer in reincarnation, he hoped that this wouldn’t affect his trip into the afterlife too much. He didn’t want his soul’s next journey to be damaged by his poor habits and sad life story. He wasn’t that selfish. The road to self-repair wasn’t as flat and ergonomic as one might think, however. Every new turn, dip or pothole left him sprawling, with his life scattered in pieces across the path.

Namjoon knew he had an obligation to look after his soul, that he needed help – for the sake of himself or for the next person to carry this soul, he wasn’t quite sure – it was just that options seemed like pit stops that were too few and far between. There were less and less, the further he went along. He would pick up someone who promised him help, but with the next jolt in the road they would go tumbling off into the distance, rarely to be seen again.

Namjoon didn’t consciously choose this life, he just made decisions that he wasn’t aware would lead to this life. Giving his mother hell, when he should have been trying to nurture her and her soul so she could avoid hell in the afterlife, was one of his greatest regrets. Cursing out every teacher he had until every single one of them, no matter how good their initial intentions were, gave up on him, was a close second. He developed a habit of pushing away anyone who came too close, who started stepping in time with him on his long journey on the road to salvation. He barely had an idea of what salvation would look like, and a lump in his stomach told him that he would walk past it and onwards even if he did reach it, because he had never known it. He imagined it would be like seeing a face that you had seen in a dream, but it wasn’t until you were home, with a good book, that you realised that you recognised that face, but they were long lost in the crowd; too lost to recover, do a double take, or call to out to.

He had learnt long ago that opportunities don’t just present themselves to someone, that the person had to look for them and fight for them no matter what wounds were inflicted along the way. One just had to be careful what wounds were worth the battle; whether, when the dust had settled, the opportunity would still stand there waiting to be grasped, or just slip away like the useless grain of hope that it was.

It became apparent to Namjoon long ago that to reach his final destination, to patch the wounds in his soul well enough for the next person, he needed to find the thing worth living for. If that failed, then he needed to make it himself.

~~

Souls need to be cared for, otherwise they become so battered and bruised that departing their coffin is too hard, and they get buried along with their vessel that is more confining than comforting.
 

Welp! There it is! Let me know what you think of it in the comment section below~ <3 Would be so grateful if you also checked out my other work