The minute I heard my first love story, I started looking for you, not knowing how blind that was. Lovers don't finally meet somewhere, they are in each other all all along.
~Rumi
We met on Pogo.com playing Scrabble. Basically, he picked me up. I was playing alone in a beginner's room when Orion2020 popped up under my screen name. He immediately started chatting and his warmth beamed through the screen.
I have never met him personally. And at the time, a little over a year ago, when we were playing Scrabble, I did not even know his last name. I only found out who he was after the fact from a friend of the other seriously broken heart on Pogo.com.
But, I had not thought of him for some time until a few months ago our wavelengths crossed. I had a feeling something was not right. I went to Google again. He was visible after many years. I was surprised to see that he had resurfaced. He must be all right I assumed if he was active again.
You would have thought that he won a Nobel Peace Prize, judging by the number of pages with links to a variety of business publications online. But, he was clearly on the radar again after retiring very young as a self-made billionaire. Obviously, a treasured asset to any company, Google's links bellowed like a megaphone assaulting my eyes.
Truth be told, I was glad he was active and had a presence online for the first time in years. I read 10 or 12 of the new articles out of the 100's of links posted on Google, even though I could tell at a glance they all had basically the same information. Like the list of immense holdings and many successful pharmaceutical companies he founded that were responsible for probably, at least, a fourth of all the medication we take in the world. Okay, maybe a sixteenth.
But, I read each repetitive article like it was the first time I had seen it. I was longing for him.
I hadn't considered that maybe he might be trying to generate some life force that retirement very young had dampened; or that rapidly changing circumstances might be motivating him. When I saw all the links with his name I felt a combination of thrilled, confused and a deep yearning to have contact with him.
I still couldn't explain the feeling that something was not right with him. I thought perhaps I did not perceive correctly. Typically my sixth sense is far superior to the average bear. I don't miss much. My instincts are often quite trustworthy. I do a lot of reality checking and verify when possible to make sure I am accurate when I read something in a person or get a sense of something. It is a part of my training as a psychotherapist. Plus, my connection with Isaac a year ago was phenomenally strong. So, I was not surprised when the foreboding feeling returned.
This time it was an image and a feeling. He was in bed. He was waiting to die. I could not even pick up his energy only his wife's wavelength came through in a pleading sort of way. It was like a request to stop pushing him away. He needed me she seemed to say. She understood it all. She even knew at the time. I was even fairly certain of that back then. But, she did not want her best friend to give up and die. She loved him that much.
That is what truthfully took me to Google. I was hoping to see I was misreading the signals and all wrong. But, in retrospect I think I perceived as intended.
He is 62, two Yale graduate sons probably leaving home soon, a 14 year growing up fast, a best friend wife that didn't like sex. And one of his companies discovered Cialis. YHWH is that Justice? He would probably have another 20 years or more to live. I assumed he must have been asking himself many questions like, "How do I want to spend my remaining years? Is this going to be enough when the kids are gone? Am I still willing to live without sex? Is being married to my best friend going to be all there is? Could more be possible for me?"
Most likely the self-styled questions were equally matched with consideration for others. I knew how deeply he felt about Jewish values, family, education, public service, philanthropy and such. His dad, I found out in my research was a Rabbi. Isaac had told me that he had Yeshiva education in high school but disappointed his head master when he refused to continue to a Jewish Yeshiva college that was expected of him.
Then to top it off, we had met. He knew I was out there. In a place he loved as well, Hawaii. He also was exceedingly aware that we knew each other’s needs as well as we knew our own. When it came to emotional vacancies in need of just the right loving touch to come alive, ours were a complete match.
Plus, it was only just a little over a year ago that he had his very own romantic and adoring soul mate every night for three months just across the computer screen as he made his, "rare, white tigress" explode on command. I always asked via chat, "Roar for me, please?" His words followed, "ROAR ROAR." I needed to hear more, "Again, please ROAR some more." My screen filled with a row of, “ROAR ROAR ROAR ROAR ROAR, that appeared faster than humanly possible. ...Full body Orgasm! A first!
But, I had successfully deconstructed the whole relationship; throwing out the memories of powerfully, room rocking, astral explosions along with all the rest. I had known there were others. He had found a playground on pogo.com for his social needs, as much as anything I believe. But the other followed as relationships over time with the same people creates familiarity and fondness. The game of Scrabble draws a certain type of person. They are often bright, articulate, social, lonely, many comfortable with plenty of time to waste. Most are women.
But he won over a million and a half scrabble tokens in only a year’s time (that’s 5 years worth for most). So, he had done some serious Scrabble winning too. He played more than he Played. But, I needed to see him as a total Player to keep him painted black.
That helped me to pigeonhole him in my mind. For many weeks, maybe even months whenever I felt his pull, all I had do was say one word to myself - Cad! I do believe it was divine intervention that helped me realize that all I was doing was protecting my heart from the pain of loss.
Because, the real truth was when he vanished, I had an emptiness so deep inside where he had filled me with phenomenal, hither to fore unknown, love. I never expected another would match it; or could ever. The nihilism of vacancy was unbearable; to be able to function I had to turn it into anger and disrespect so that I could stop my silent tears. I demonized him.
But this time was different, some new sun shone in the cave and I did not fear my shadow. It started when I identified why I built the anger, cad, wall...I was protecting myself from feeling a pain and sadness so deep that it seemed it might have destroyed me. Shortly, thereafter something surprising happened. The walls of Jericho came tumbling down, the guards quit providing protection and my doors allowed entry to my pleasant memories of Isaac.
He has been in my heart and my head for many months now. It is sheer magic and pure heaven. With soulmates it is like that. There is a knowingness of innate perception, all about the other. You don't even have to be physically nearby to perceive things. It is 4968 miles between New York City and Honolulu. Yet, I feel his arms around me as we nod off to sleep. I feel his concern and sense his love. Basically, it is like this...his presence is a constant experience in my life today. I have come to expect it, just as much as I do the sun shining 99.99% of the time in Hawaii.
When the self-protective walls surrounding me, came down, memories of all the great parts of our experiences together flooded my consciousness. This was written to let them roll on through.
At the time nearly a year ago, he set clear boundaries, telling me, "This will never go beyond this Pogo site." He spoke of his wife as his best friend. But it was not the full marital agenda. He did not complain about it. He just wanted me to understand.
He told me proudly of his son preparing for a summer of humanitarian public service, work following his graduation from Yale. The other son had a year or two at Yale still to go. He spoke so fondly of his 13 year old daughter that occasionally entered his apparently mostly private part of their large eight units turned into one large apartment on a high floor overlooking the Statue of Liberty on the Hudson River across the street from the World Trade Center. I knew when the screen went blank for a few minutes; it would be followed with a simple, "I lost my privacy."
I loved him very quickly for his openness and warmth, and I loved how he loved his family, his values and philanthropy. He told of a theater he built in Israel for children that were deaf with special accommodations so that they could enjoy live theater. I even loved that his wife was his best friend. But, sadly that had been the extent of it for some time.
He had it all. The perfect package for me was here. I was smitten. "Not mine," I kept trying to tell myself. I never expected to fall so hard. But, when the student is ready the teacher arrives. Mine showed when Orion2020 entered the Scrabble room that night. I had not loved much about myself for a while. I had not let anyone else love me for some time.
I just never found anyone right. I was married once very young. I was engaged three time’s years ago. And I walked away each time. It just wasn't enough with any of them. Then there were fruitless years trying to save a bright and beautiful young man, oozing with potential. I just stopped trying. I had not dated in years. And my beloved psychiatrist filled in the blanks emotionally, intellectually and spiritually. Then along comes Isaac.
He brought me something I had not had for years with his understanding of and appreciation for films, theater and music. We could speak one language I had forgotten and he introduced me to more. The first thing he always said was, "kiss me" to which my response was always the same, "across time and space, our tongues dance the tango."
It was perhaps our fifth night together when he told me the story of Rebekah and Isaac from the Old Testament that I didn't recall or never knew. He didn't tell it quite like this. But upon reading the Biblical story today, I take a few liberties. Abraham, Isaac's dad was getting old and presumably felt urgency to assure propagation of his lineage before it was too late and sent his servant to find Isaac a wife outside of Canaan. So the servant headed out with 10 camels that carried the luggage. In the town of Nahor they stopped. It was Happy Hour and the townspeople were all coming out to draw water in their water jars.
The servant devised a means to determine what woman would be right for Isaac and prayed to God that he be successful at his mission. It was to be the woman that when asked for a drink of water also offered to provide water to the camel. I suppose, that would reveal much of her character, showing her heart. Possibly even her faithfulness to God's laws of implied responsibility of man's dominion over animals spoken of in Genesis. It was a solid plan and surely one expected of Abraham's Major Domo servant. Rebekah was the first woman to offer him water. Immediately, without a second thought, she offered the camels water. She went even further and suggested that she put the servant and camels up for the night offering her family's accommodations to them all. He had found Isaac's wife!
My Isaac called me his Rebekah and his soul mate. My heart overflowed with a joy that could not be contained the first time he said that. I tried to stay afloat during my melt down by telling myself that, "he probably said that to other women on Pogo.com, with whom I knew by then, he spent time."
As for me, my only real intellectual peer for some time had been my beloved psychiatrist. We have had a special bond since early on. I lived in a dual diagnosis program he ran and we have know each other 30 years. He has been through a lot with me and helped me immensely. I have relied heavily on him at different times and he has always come through. Plus, he is a charming enigma. He was born in Australia, is a very handsome tall Chinese man, Armani and Harvard and speaks with a sophisticated accent of Australian-Bostonian English.
My beloved psychiatrist is available to me 24/7 and we are friends, I worked for him recruiting participants for clinical research drug trials he conducted for pharmaceutical companies. Amusingly, even some of companies that Isaac founded that were later acquired by Big Pharma heavyweight players. My beloved psychiatrist and I have always had a deep appreciation for one another, an intimate, but not physical, connection. Frankly, he set the bar on men pretty high for me with his own brilliance and intuitiveness combined with compassion. On top of his generosity of all of that with me...you get the picture. Again, along comes Isaac.
Every night for over three months, I set my alarm for 1 a.m. jumped on to the laptop and headed for Pogo.com. We usually spent a few hours as the time difference and privacy factors worked out best at those hours, my sleeping schedule was all awry. My shrink was concerned it was going to affect my bipolar mood disorder. He would say things like "...you guys better cool it." And being somewhat straight-laced as a Seventh Adventist from birth but open-minded and cool too he could never quite get the visual on 'in a Scrabble chat room' saying things like, "...the phone yeah, I can see that but..."
Our few hours together each night were sustaining me in a way it seemed might have been enough for even a lifetime if it never changed even one iota. We spoke Song of Songs type prose, spontaneously composed to each other, as the feelings and words and keystrokes all melded effortlessly but with rapid-fire intensity and passion. I knew that book of the Bible well, I loved the romance. I did an A+ paper in college Old Testament class on that book. My Humanities minors in college were Religion and Philosophy. We exchanged the perfect words in the most loving ways with an innate knowingness of how to touch the exact right spot in each other's hearts.
We discussed films like Umbrellas of Cherbourg, I ordered it and The Counterfeiter's (ordered too, he was surprised at my astute observation of ?? I forget). He suggested, I ordered, I wanted to know firsthand and appreciate what he appreciated because I felt his passion. I knew it had to be fabulous, whatever It was, if he was that passionate about it. And frankly living in Hawaii for so many years, for me at least, had left some vacancies, which he was able to occupy and enliven.
I know I shocked him when I reported viewing the Umbrellas of Cherbourg the day following our conversation about the musical. I felt the young lovers in Paris vibe and got the visual enhancing the mind's eye view of the previous night, where he had positioned us for our first trip.
That was the hook. To take me traveling with his written descriptive skills spanning environment through emotion evoked into the slightest extra experience like that of the highly skilled driver mentioned in the upcoming sentence. It made teleportation a cinch. I loved the King David hotel in Israel but God, that ride in the limo up the winding road in the Swiss Alps to the lodge was scary (even though he assured the driver was highly skilled). It was so real, I asked for a helicopter.
We spoke of Jon Stewart's shows and his character defects, I was surprised, I thought Jon was perfect. We had similar liberal political views and discussed issues of the day that we both were informed about. He usually wrote a song a day and often shared them crediting me with inspiration on occasion. He had been a filmmaker years before he said. He told me what kept him busy now...like singing lessons with his famous Broadway singing coach, his songwriting partner in Nashville and the specialized equipment that allowed for their musical collaboration between states.
Then there was a club where he was going to get to sing on one Saturday night, which had him obviously thrilled. The office at Rockefeller Center he retained despite retirement at 35. I think what impressed me the most, was the diversity of his interests and obvious enjoyment derived from his many creative interests and pursuits.
We spoke of Israel and Judaism. Rachmaninov and composer Michel LeGrand, who wrote the soundtrack for Umbrellas of Cherbourg, were perhaps the most precious gifts he gave me. After he described the sensuality of Rachmaninov's music and its use in The Seven Year Itch movie soundtrack, My Rhapsody went straight to the classical artist following our chat that night.
That was my first real experience with deeply feeling classical music. When I listened, I heard what he heard, somehow. He always asked and made sure I had Rach playing through my headphones. I never even asked his last name. I knew the rules and it didn't matter, I was merely an adjunct player on a computer screen. Not mine. Why know more? It was what it was.
But, I counted the moments to our scheduled nightly meets with the anticipation of a child going to Disneyland the next day. I felt fulfilled all the way to the cellular level. Following a night of our most intense engagement ever a closeness and full acceptance with a new unconditional quality emerged in our connectedness. I fell asleep peaceful and fulfilled like never before.
The following night I logged in and waited but he did not appear, nor the night after that. He had just vanished. I suspected he might have crossed his own line and fearful of going any further he withdrew.
Months later I was researching soul mates and came across this.
Months later I was researching soul mates and came across this.
What is a Twin Flame?
Twin flames, also called twin souls, are literally the other half of our soul. We each have only one twin, and generally after being split the two went their separate ways, incarnating over and over to gather human experience before coming back together. Ideally, this happens in both of their last lifetimes on the planet so they can ascend together. So you probably haven't had many lifetimes with your twin.
 NASA |
Each twin is a
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