The Love Story Part 11 - The Final Breakdown
"When Twin Flames meet there is a powerful recognition followed by an overwhelming intensity, as a forceful magnetism, draws the two parts of the same soul together. A constant pull toward each other to reunite."
We are inexplicably drawn to each other like dazzled-eyed moths to a fiery flame. As our messaging and conversations resume, we find new ways to bond.
One morning on my regular walk in the National Park, I happen upon a pair of Superb Fairy Wren snuggling on a fallen log. Unperturbed by my presence, I continue to watch them. Observing them takes me out of my head and stops me from thinking about how alone I feel and how much I miss him. I resolve to use being present and birdwatching combined to set me on a path of healing. I take it one step further by bringing my camera along to record my journey. A journey along which, he becomes a willing companion.
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"Your job as a twin flame is not to focus on your twin but to focus on healing yourself. "
He marvels at the variety of species I encounter and my ability to record them exquisitely within their environment. I am amazed they continue to find me. It is as though they sense my need for connection and pop down to let me know that everything will be OK.
I begin posting daily images on my Instagram account along with "stories" showing the wonderful places I am venturing to in my quest to find these birds. This now becomes a hub around which our connection is invigorated. As he views every story and likes each post, I begin to look out for him. When his little profile bubble appears in the viewer's list, (always at the top as Instagram has designated him my most avid follower), I am overwhelmed with a sense of relief at first, then comfort. This impels me to create and share more.
Our conversations now include my birding adventures. He seems enthusiastic about my discoveries and even helps me to identify them, and of course, I encourage him to do so. In July (2021), we plunge into another lockdown and I take the opportunity to write a children's book using the birds I've encountered to help describe emotions. He helps me do the edit.
As well as the birds, we chat regularly about day-to-day life. These conversations last for hours at a time and leave me both fulfilled and agitated all at once. On one level we are great friends but I miss his physical presence, his daily diatribes, his morning hug, and our walks.
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"The Twin Flame relationship is about enlightenment. It will break you down and build you back up as you are meant to be."
It is painfully difficult to hear about the life he is living without me. The trivia nights, the walks of discovery around London, and rambling through the Kent countryside. He has now moved into an apartment where his walks take in the local wildlife reserve which hosts a wide variety of birdlife, and a body of water aptly named "Nina's Pond".
"See, you can't escape me!" 😆 That's a sign if ever there was one.
Despite the difficulty surrounding our moving on, our friendship becomes invaluable and I hunger for his messages and calls.
My young adults observe this dilemma of the heart. Over an evening of Teriyaki Beef, several rounds of Catan and much lively discussion on Marxism vs Postmodernism, they see how flat I become after a message from him and comment;
"Mum, surely you are not still talking to him?"
They see he is not good for me and are clearly disappointed that I am allowing myself to be the recipient of so very little. Instinctively I agree. My logical brain begs for me to let him go so I can move on. I tell him so again but he doesn't go and so I can't either.
I plan some small trips away to distract myself but he is everywhere. His name appears on the covers of book spines, street signs, whiskey labels and even a pub. As Rumi says "no eye sees so clear and sharp as the eye of love. The lover who is nowhere to be found, you start to see everywhere."
I resolve to tell him how I feel so that we may bring things to a head.
"You know I still have feelings for you?" To which he replies "I know."
Yet, he doesn't back away or leave me be. Instead, over the next few months, our conversations deepen, and our friendship grows more profound. We talk about moving forward but neither of us seems to be able to let go. So we continue.
Back in my immediate world, my children shockingly decide to break communication with me. Without explanation, all three decide to block me out.
I try to reach out, to no avail. Then one morning, a letter arrives. An accusatory exposé revealing such intense blame and anger, that I am immediately frightened for my life. Alarm ravages my body as memories surface about murderous threats, the spilling of my blood and a police-issued apprehended violence order to protect my life.
Knowing they still have keys to my apartment, I bar my door with an ironing board. That way at least it will make a racket if they try to enter during the night. I am completely unnerved and sleep very little.
Line after line of the letters hateful venom spirals through my head as I commute to work the next morning. Around the Pacific Highway at Lindfield, my thoughts are abruptly interrupted by the sudden appearance of a Silky Terrier prancing across the road in front of me. I manage to stop in time, but looking pleased with himself for escaping, he carries on, only to step off the median strip into an oncoming truck. I shut my eyes but with my hands on the wheel, I cannot avoid hearing the thud. A scream escapes me as my body recalls the trauma of my brother's death in a similar way. I am now completely shaken and cry for the two-hour journey to Newcastle. Somehow, I manage to pull myself together just in time for class. Carry on. That's what I do.
On the drive home I revisit my thoughts around the letter and my children's decision to shut me out. At first, I fear the judgement that I imagine will come. How could a child forsake their parent if not for the fault of the parent? So, I keep the emergence of this behaviour and subsequent letter to myself. Indeed, a short while later, another equally horrid letter follows and I finally feel the need to unburden myself. Even I have limits as to what I may endure alone.
I tentatively reveal all to him in our phone conversation. If I can't truly be honest and vulnerable with one of my closest friends, what point is there in the relationship? I needn't have feared as he resolves to steer me through the coming weeks with gentle consideration, knowing that Mother's Day, my Birthday and Christmas would all be horribly difficult for me to endure.
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"Your task is not to seek for love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it." Rumi
This final abandonment is the absolute coup de grâce. I decide that the behaviour of those closest to me is out of my control and what I can do is focus on myself. Why has my life been filled with such desertion, abandonment, when I all I have ever wanted is to be loved? I have broken down as far as I can go. It is time to build myself back up. With righteous determination, I quit my job, shut down my business, rent out my apartment and book a ticket to London.
I wonder what he'll think about my coming over?
The story continues...here.
Read from the beginning here..
THE AUTHOR
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