“You’re letting me go?” the little girl asked in a confused tone. 

I looked down at the small child in front of me and sighed. She had hazelnut hair and wide green eyes. Her smile always made me happy. No matter how many years had passed, no matter how many lives she lived, no matter how much I suffered, that smile brought me joy.  

Right now, though, she was a four-year-old girl who I would never see again. It was the best course of action for the both of us, even if I was the only one who recognized the severity of the decision. Hopefully, she would forget me and live this life happily and to the fullest. 

In honor of my beloved, I promised myself that I would write a journal about our moments together and what I’ve done. It will be my greatest reminder in later lives on why I cannot depend on her and must learn to live each life to its full extent.  

No longer can I repeat the same mistakes that have burdened my soul for so long. In this journal, no detail on what time and love have done to me will be left out. For me, there will be no happy ending. Still, I can honestly say that I have had a hell of a ride. 

“The cycles of birth, misery, and death caused by karma are repeating indefinitely.” 

The first life I can remember, I lived in what later became known as the New World. I lived in the Aztec civilization and had a good station. I was a valued priest in the capital. Now, I can see my profession was both awful and vital. I was highly regarded by others in the city. The job allowed me many luxuries, which I would not have had otherwise. 

It wasn't very difficult for me to remember the rituals and to learn to communicate with the Gods. At the height of their power, the Gods declared the need for human sacrifices. Apparently, people’s souls fueled their power. For the first few years, a couple of Aztecs from our territories were sacrificed, but later on the, Gods got greedy. 

Being around the Gods affected me. For a long time, I felt more strongly about everything, but it started out with the good emotions. Much of my work allowed me to see the good in people. I would bless pregnant women with safe pregnancies. The happiness that emanated from mother and child was astounding.  

Later on, I came to feel negative feelings more strongly as well. The strength of my emotions never seemed to diminish as I died and continued to be reborn. 

Then a day unlike any other came about. A sacrificial ceremony was going to happen later on in the month. I was in charge of the fortunate people who would become the sacrifices. That was the day I met the girl named Centehua, who would later be known as Sara. Her skin was a beautiful cinnamon color, for the sun had been good to her. She had long, shiny black hair and was brought to us from another tribe. 

Some of our greatest Aztec warriors had started a war with Sara's tribe. She was in the group of individuals we captured to use as sacrifices. When Sara learned of this fate, she debated whether or not to accept it. She decided to have a happy outlook since she would die either way. Dying with dignity was what she wanted, and it touched my heart. 

Many of the other people chosen to be sacrificed didn’t see the honor in giving up their lives to the Gods. In return for the sacrifices, our civilization would be repaid in good crops and fertile soils. Sara stood out to me because she smiled about the unjust fate that had befallen her instead of crying about it. It was then that she captured my heart. 

The month leading up to the sacrifices, when Sara was under my care, I bonded with her in a way I hadn’t with anyone else. Every day we would rise with the sun and talk to one another until our eyes could no longer stay open. 

We learned about each other's lives. No longer was she Centehua the sacrifice. 

No, she was living up to her namesake as "only one": she was my only one. Before then, no other human had truly ever understood me, but she did. Love had made many before and after me do idiotic deeds. What followed was mine. 

Curious, I tested my compatibility with Sara by performing a blood ritual. The ritual was fairly simple. A drop of blood from each person was added to a small goblet. After an incantation, smoke was released. The color of the smoke would determine our compatibility. Our smoke was white, the color of souls. We were soulmates. 

With this knowledge in mind, I knew I couldn’t sacrifice Sara, my other half. That is why I did the greediest act that anyone of my status could do: I ran away with Sara. I broke my oath to the Gods. 

Once the news spread, all of the Aztec empire was on our heels. Nobody at the time could stand up against them, so we were caught.  

To appease the Gods, both of us were sacrificed. Our ceremony was at sundown. Sara’s beautiful smile was on her face as the knife plunged into her heart. I could see she was glad to not be going through this torture alone. My major arteries were slashed as well, and we bled out slowly. 

I felt no agony as we slowly died because she was staring at me with love in her eyes. Blood dripped out of her mouth. The executioners looked at our joy in disgust. They felt that we should be repenting for going against our duties. However, I believed that our love could conquer all. How foolish we are in our youth. 

The afterlife was nothing like I was thought it would be. I was made purely of spirit energy, but I still looked like I did when I was alive. Sara was there with me. I had visualized an afterlife where we would roam freely together and come to love each other more than we did when we were alive. Just as our hands touched, we were wrenched apart by a startling force: the Gods. Meeting our creators was quite the experience. 

None of them were pleased that their priest had gone against them. The atmosphere was filled with anger and tension. I knew we were going to be punished, but I was prepared to face it. Squaring my shoulders and looking at my Gods showed that I was ready to accept the consequences. Sara looked at me and took my hand in a silent gesture of support. We would do this together, or so I thought. 

“You have broken your oath to us and tried to evade punishment. Both shall be punished,” Ometecutli, one of the Gods of creation, told us. 

“Sssseparate them!” hissed a snake-like God. 

“Tarnish their souls!” yelled a God of war. 

“Enough! The sentence has already been decreed. For breaking his oath, our priest will remember all that he has done. The girl will no longer be his soulmate. Are we agreed?” asked the head of all Gods, and the other consented. 

At the time, I did not know they meant that I would remember each lifetime. All I could focus on was that my soulmate and I would be ripped apart at the fabric of our very being. 

Regrets? I have a few. It has always shocked me how love can push good people to do horrible things. Love certainly convinced me to do my share of wrong in the world. But there is one thing I will never regret: meeting Sara. Being with her always pushed the gloominess of my existence away. As much as I loved her, I could not keep her. I would not treat her as a bird, as caging Sara would change who she was. 

Of course, that did not mean that I could allow her to be chained by someone else.