Love is the emblem of eternity; it confounds all notion of time; effaces all memory of a beginning, all fear of an end.

Anne Louise Germaine de Stäel

After traveling all around the world's most remote corners, years and decades come and gone, we'd always come back to the very same spot. A meadow lost in the northwestern forests of America.

I was sitting under the shade of a big old oak, an inanimate witness of our love. My back against its scraping bark, my knees bent to my chest and my eyes lost in the view of my beloved who was sitting between thickets of colorful wild flowers some feet away; never too far from me yet not close enough.

Edward's skin glittered with the sun rays, sparkling every hue of color my enhanced sight could discriminate. His flawless face never ceasing to amuse me and enamor me. He was beaming under the sun, exposing his wan skin to the warmth; his weight leaning on his elbows while his legs were stretched in front. His white tee flaunting the perfect muscles of his chest. He knew I was staring and he enjoyed it.

"Looking at something you like?" He asked without opening his eyes.

"Indeed, I'm enjoying the view very much…" I answered coaxing him with my most seductive voice. Edward opened his eyes, liquid honey pools for me to bathe in. I was biting my lower lip, fidgeting with my fingers while pondering of a way to ask something I've always wanted to know but never dared to voice.

"What is it love?" He asked me. Edward knew me as the lines of his palms; he could not hear my thoughts but he could read my face as an open book. Years had become our accomplices, making for us very easy to communicate without words. I knew every expression of his face just as he knew mine, yet, there was not a single day we didn't learn a new thing from each other.

"Well…" I hesitated, "I wanted to ask you something since a very long time ago."

"What has stopped you? I have no secrets for you." He answered, giving me my favorite smile.

"I haven't asked because I never wanted to pry on your past and anyway, you might think I'm silly." I confessed coyly. A crease forming between his brows with amusement.

"Nothing you can say or do will make me think of you as silly, Bella. Shoot beautiful." He bantered, bestowing me the right to ask anything I wanted to know.

"Well, here it goes." I sighed, looking for the courage to articulate the words. "Will you tell me about Esthella? That girl back in 1918?" I finally asked without looking to his eyes, staring at my fingernails as if they were the most interesting thing on the surface of Earth.

Edward's forehead furrowed a bit more, as if trying to remember a buried memory. "I read your diary you know? Don't tell me you don't know whom I'm talking about." I said pouting. As I spoke, understanding soothed his features and just like that, he burst in laughter!

"Are you scoffing me?" I asked with disbelief, throwing at him some leaves and pebbles my hands had found around my sitting form.

"Never darling! A lightning strike me before I dare to do that!" Edward crooned with a playful voice after he stopped laughing. I pouted even more and crossed my arms in front of my chest as a little girl about to throw a tantrum. He stood up from the spot where he had been sunbathing and approached to sit just beside me under the shelter of the old tree. He slid his right arm behind my shoulders, his big left hand holding both of mine, his gaze never leaving my eyes. "What?" I asked trying to appear hurt though I was fighting against exploding in laughter with the absurdity of the situation. I, Bella Cullen was jealous.

"Nothing, it's just that for a fleeting moment I thought you were jealous, but it can't be, right?" Edward questioned me with his eyes, teasing me with his up sided grin.

"What if I am?"

"Well, then I must take my words back and affirm you're in fact and after all… silly Bella." I nudged his ribs and pouted once more, surrendering into laughter at last. We used to spend time like this, teasing and playing around as teenagers and not as the old experienced beings we were.

"I promised I would keep no secrets from you, so if that's what you want to know, I will tell you about her." Edward stated leaving our antics behind.

For an instant I flinched, regretting of finally asking the one thing I didn't know about Edward's past; what if I didn't like what he had to say about that girl from his diary, the one he once thought of becoming the companion of his life. Edward read the hesitancy in my face and squeezed my hands in an assurance gesture and he began to speak.

"Esthella was a beautiful young girl," he started, "her mahogany brown wavy hair always smelled of strawberries and she had these deep chocolate brown eyes in which I could lose myself; her skin was fair and pale, as that of a porcelain doll." I wondered about the resemblance I shared with the girl, maybe Edward had always had the taste for brunettes.

"She was shy and quiet, both qualities expected of a well educated girl of that time. She loved to read, Austen was her favorite contemporary writer. And she was the clumsiest girl I've ever met, but I found that feature of her quite endearing." Edward stopped his tale glancing at me once in a while as if asking for my permission to continue. I nodded letting him know I was keeping up though the smoldering jealousy was growing inside my chest though I knew for sure that Edward was mine completely in mind and body.

"How did you meet her?"

"Her mother was a cellist at the conservatory. Once our gazes crossed one evening she accompanied her, we never stopped the flirting. Of course it was very innocent, we barely spoke with each other at first, it was all about body language; you see, in that time it was not proper for two teenagers to go rampant with public demonstrations of affection, not if they hadn't been properly introduced and approved by the parents."

"So then what happened?" Curiosity took the better of me and now I needed to know the whole story. Edward sighed deeply and continued his tale, rubbing my hands with his thumb every now and then.

"Esthella started to visit the conservatory every more often with the excuse of listening to her mom to play, but I always knew she went just to see me. Within time, we started talking and knowing each other very well. And then… well, it just happened…"

I winced with Edward's statement but he didn't stop, he was determined to expel every memory he had of that girl. I was grateful for his confidence but never the less, I was aching. "What happened?" I asked without wanting to hear the answer.

"I fell in love with her Bella, deeply and madly in love."

"You never wrote anything that deep in your diary, I thought she was only a girl."

"I'm a guy Bella, guys don't write about those things, guys don't even keep diaries. But she was The girl, and has always been, until now." Edward finally explained bashfully, making emphasis in the word the. I shook my head trying to discredit his words, he was killing me with them. I felt deeply hurt and betrayed and if I could've cried I would've had. I made an attempt to stand up and run away from him, of the truth that he had just told; but he grabbed my wrist before I could move.

As always, Edward read the emotional map of my face and ran his cold finger through the roads and summits of my face, as if he were trying to remove inexistent tears from my cheeks. "Don't you see it Bella? Esthella, Isabella… I wonder what name you would be given in your next cycle of life if you had not been turned into one of our kind." He said calmly, pleading me with his eyes for understanding.

And I understood. That girl back in 1918 was no other but me and Edward recognized my face and my smell when I first stepped inside that biology classroom in that small high school of Forks. Ninety years later. I was Edward's singer since my soul was picked from the pond of souls, from the place where everything starts; and our souls were meant to be together by The Picker of souls. I was now aware of the miracle Edward had experienced first hand. Death had separated us once, then twice, but I had been reborn to find him, the same as he did; and the cycle would have gone over and over until our souls were finally together finding the paths our Fate had written for us. For those who don't live an eternal life, the cycle would repeat itself until each soul found their match and then go back to the pond, to Heaven. For me, every hour spent with Edward in this physical and tangible life was Heaven.

As Alice and Jasper, Rose and Emmett, Carlisle and Esme, Aro and Heidi, Renee and Phill, Edward and I touched our own chord that will vibrate in eternity.

Never the spirit was born, the spirit shall cease to be never.

Never was time it was not, end and beginning are dreams.

The Bhagavad Gita.