The Fear of Not Recognizing

There’s a quiet fear that sometimes lives in the soul — a wondering, a whisper: Will I recognize them?

We don’t often speak of it, but it lingers in moments of stillness. The thought that love might one day meet us again, in a place beyond this world… and we won’t know it.

Not the face. Not the voice. Not even the name.

But the soul.

We wonder: Would I feel it? Would something inside me remember?

Not with the eyes, but with something deeper — that quiet part of us that knows without explanation.

It’s the same part that sometimes pauses mid-breath when someone walks by. The part that dreams of a person long before you meet them. The part that aches, not because of what was lost, but because of what still lives inside.

And maybe… that’s the answer.

Maybe we don’t need to worry about recognition — because the soul doesn’t forget what it’s once loved.

Across lifetimes, across veils, across time… something eternal remembers. In a look, in a touch, in the echo of a presence you can’t explain, you’ll know. Not through logic or memory — but through resonance.

So if the question ever comes — What if I don’t recognize them? — perhaps the answer is: You will. In the way your soul always has.