posted August 07, 2014 12:58 PM
'We attended the same university? Wait -- don't tell me.''You had different approaches, but -- '
'The same basic ideas ... It's so hard to be away from the one who completes you!'
Yep. Me again.
The aforementioned was the last thing in my dream this morning, after a very sleepless night. This time, I hadn't tried to disconnect from him -- just decided, here, in the real third dimensional plane of reality -- that we're slowly becoming some bizarre form of strangers.
But that it's okay.
I was about to utter the words proclaiming that I'm solely focussing on what I have right here in front of me, the relationships I'm in now -- but my husband said something that sent EVERYTHING into a tailspin. I ended up crying. CRYING! Within seconds! ME!
It was a ridiculous thing, too. But it was THE one thing he could say that would hit me like a truck, forcing me to reevaluate. Or, in the case of last night, NOT abandon ship.
AGAIN.
Oh, but how I really, really want to! It feels like a vestigial part of myself that's just occasionally getting infected and serving no purpose. No wonder I'm often sitting here with a hatchet, debating, 'do I just cut it off?'
You see, my Twin starts hating me for NO logical reason. None. It's as if I've slighted him in some fashion, by failing to do some imagined thing he's not communicated, and then he punishes me for it.
Augh! NO. I don't play this game anymore. I WON'T.
Is he angry because my series that I was developing before him is now going into production talks with Netflix? Because of the way things collapsed between us at the start of 2013? Is he just ANGRY? I never know. But it hurts. EVERY time. He comes out of nowhere and just takes a shot at me, for no other reason THAN to communicate his ire. And for WHAT?
Of course, as usual, when these things happen, something else coincides: I end up spending what feels like an entire day with him in the span of several minutes of REM.
This time, it was the most bizarre; I was just sort of there, at his home, quite likely where he's actually living, but, perhaps not. Just ... there. Going to sleep, waking, noticing small details such as, 'you sleep on that side, so I'll be over here'; brushing our teeth -- from a plastic cup sitting on the nightstand. Typical, often overlooked mundanities of daily life, with some element of the strange or unusual.
Then we just ... existed together, going about the normal spectrum activities. And yet, it seemed in fast-forward. A blur or a blink.
Next, I noticed the time on his digital alarm clock -- 06:07. (And I thought, or 07:06?) I heard him go through the usual motions of waking and starting his day; like a director filming from behind the lens. I was both there and not there.
Suddenly, I found myself darting back towards the bathroom. It was all in neutral shades -- sand, taupe, beige. I was strangely pleased to find that I'd gone to the right one, as that's where he was also heading.
He gives me a look that's tricky to define; it's not quite chiding, nor is it angry; slightly wry.
'This is no time for relationships.'
Well, sure. 06:10 in a bathroom doesn't seem like the appropriate time, nor place, for much of anything outside of the mundane activities of day-to-day living.
But maybe that's what was conveyed? I keep trying to pull the plug -- thinking the whole thing's on life-support -- when it's just not the time? Who knows?
The next scene that followed was the one where I was walking along the outer edge of a retaining wall, though I had no fear of falling. That's when my parents were talking to another set of seniors about their age; I heard the 'news' that we had attended the same university -- which, I knew, somehow. I knew I was more places than where I simply had been. (This sort of multidimensionality was easily acceptable. Felt almost pedestrian.)
And, thus, the strange conversation of, 'don't tell me,' and then my tearful outburst, in which I literally fell to my knees and wept upon the stairs:
'It's so hard to be away from the one who completes you!'
In that moment, it felt that he was the Moon, and I was the Sun. We were two perspectives of an inextricable force -- light -- merely being expressed differently.
I awoke with the final strains of Blue October's 'Ugly Side' playing, almost as a distant echo.
'And now it's dark. I look to you to light my heart. I'm between the Moon and where you are. I know I can't be ... far.'
Naturally, here's what was going down way up above:
I get so tired of it all. I'm still going to focus forward -- on all of the wonderful things I'm doing, that I'm developing -- a TV series, two research projects, and a slew of other things on this big blue ball, hoping to make our trips around the Sun a little easier.
Then mornings like this happen. My soul is piloting, and the rest of me has been hijacked. And I find myself just wanting to friggin' cry. It'll pass. But for now, it's here. And so, so hard.
Twin Flames: NOT as advertised.
Lindaland
UBBFriend: Email This Page to Someone! 
posted August 07, 2014 12:58 PM
In part why I found that strange. The message was very clear, and yet it's completely foreign to my actual beliefs, and contrary -- even regressive -- in regards to my experience.