A Sleeping Giant

Oh Blog, I am so sorry for taking this long to get back to you. So much has happened, and for whatever reason, writing about it didn't seem like anything of monumental importance to me.

But it is.

It seems that being with Fola this past while, has tempered my need to write. Part of my mind knows that its due to being pre-occupied with more interesting and immediately gratifying pursuits, the other part is somewhat shrouded in a veil of mysterious complacency for which I have no answer for.

It's not that I don't have anything to write about -- I do, but the enthusiasm, the will to write has definitely subsided for reasons I cannot explain.

But, I trust my instincts. I know that I have an excellent memory, and although I may miss mentioning many of the small details that can add color to an event that is being recollected; I still have enough of the details to stitch together enough of a picture to report and reflect upon.

Just read my last post, about how I need to write more. I'm nodding at it. Yeah, I should write more. Six days since the last post isn't nearly as bad as a month, but it still could be better.

The unexamined life is not worth living, as they say, and I believe that this blog helps keep me grounded.

On the 25th, I've turned 40 years old. The big four-oh. It wasn't as scary as I thought it would be. I mean, in the years leading up to this number, I had never really envisioned myself as a 40 year old man, but here I am. 40 and feeling a little strange, but good about it.

Fola thinks that 40 is a good age for a man to be. I somewhat agree. It appears to be the peak of maturity, sexual virility, experience, knowledge, all these things. At least I feel that way about myself.

Hm. My writing feels choppy as I type these words out. Kind of feeling like I'm stumbling around a little, wondering what the best way to lay out a sentence would be. I suppose this is what happens what I take a break from writing down my thoughts, and allowing a bit of rust to enter within the neural pathways responsible for smooth, clear and efficiently delivered writing. Which all this obviously isn't close to being, heh.

But, that's okay, right? Writing sloppily and infrequently is better than not writing anything at all.

So, tangent aside, I did turn 40 on Saturday and it was memorable. No, it wasn't a huge party due to the fact that I have few enough friends and family members that I keep in touch with to allow for such a thing, so it was really simple. My mom and Fola, at Red Lobster, meeting each other for the first time.

I was still fighting off (and still am) that bacterial infection I seemed to have picked up on the Saturday of the week before, so I was watery eyed and irritated, but in good spirits. Made the more so by having two of the women I love most in this world, in the same place.

It wasn't as weird as I thought it would be. My mom and I came in around a half hour early, and Fola arrived about on time. She brought my mom flowers, and... Well, everything clicked. Conversation flowed well, and I managed to keep them in good spirits by cracking a joke every now and then. The dinner itself was okay, steak and lobster tail honestly should have been a lot better than what I was tasting, but I was satisfied enough.

My mom really seemed to like Fola, and Fola likes my mom. Quite an achievement given how my mom once opposed the idea of meeting Fola, due to her being married and uhm, sleeping around, even if it was with her husband's permission.

To Fola's credit, she really turned a corner. No more polyamory. More open, more affectionate, more considerate.

More of the woman I have always wanted her to be.

Yeah blog... I am in love with her. She knows it. Staying at my place the next day over, we sat together on my couch when she turned towards me with a smile.

"I know you love me." she says, looking me square in the eyes.

"Is it that obvious?" I somewhat sarcastically replied. Raising a sheepish eyebrow at her.

You know.. I wish I could say the same of her. That I feel loved by her. And I have to say, that I am getting very close to believing it.

You see, on Saturday as we wrapped up our meal, it was suggested we go to the casino afterwards, but I said I would rather go home and put a wet rag over my eyes. It was really annoying me, having to constantly blink and wipe away tears and feeling irritated. My mom suggested I put chamomile tea bags over my eyes to help sooth them, and I said I didn't have it. Fola said she did, and would bring it by the next day when she would come over.

But, as I dropped my mom off, Fola texted me to say she was on the way over to my place. With chamomile that she bought at Bulk Barn, shortly after dinner ended.

I mean, we had dinner on the west end of the city and in the time I drove home with my mom, Fola went to buy this stuff and drove to my place, waiting for me to get there.

That girl, I tell you. Has changed. I am almost completely believing that she loves me. Even if she 100% does, I still have that bit of hesitation in me. Wondering if this is real. If it's genuine.

And... I think it is. But... I have to be careful, too. I want to believe, but I don't want to be let down. I want to be sure.

So, yes. My guard is still up. And... that's in spite of this poem that Fola wrote for me, after I wrote her own for her birthday.

It went like this:

Love is the Perfect Teacher

When you least expect it, there it is.
When you ask for i, it appears.
Then you think to yourself:
"Thank You, but why now?"

Things were simple. but now that's passed.
Why did you come here? I ask.
Yet deep down I know exactly why,
To set things straight and show me the meaning of life.

To think I thought I had figured it all out.
What a joke that was!
A Cosmic lie.
You've proven me wrong.

I know it's scary, to love and to lose.
I know it's scary when we fear abuse.
But I need you to know, I'll always come for you.
From the beginning of time, until the end.

Most times I feel my soul expanding; and yours too.
Others, it is as though we are dissolving.
Helplessly into our great Love,
Eyes gazing, bodies holding.

I wouldn't of had it any other way.
I am here, this is where I'll stay.
Test me and I'll test you.
But let us promise, we will always aim to work it through.

Love,
Your Twin

(sighs) (pats chest)

I tell you blog. I have every reason to believe that this woman now deeply loves me, and is willing to commit. From someone who once argued that monogamy wasn't for her; she is now saying that she wants to be in a long-term monogamous relationship with me.

How far we've come.

That poem of hers speaks volumes.. but, there is something strange about it that I can't quite pin down. This doesn't invalidate the feelings behind it, but rather gives me a reason to keep my guard up a little. Is it heartfelt? It seems to be. Is it genuine? It mostly appears that way.

I have pretty good instincts, I feel, and right now my gut is telling me to be a little careful. To not tear down the last bit of defense that I have wrapped around my heart. To ensure that it is kept safe, and that should calamity or loss present itself; then I will have strength enough to be able to deal with it.

I have written in my blog for so many years about wanting to really love someone, and to feel loved by them, but it never felt like something that could actually come true. All that heartbreak. All those shitty moments, and I kept wanting this thing. Love. Despite the years weighing heavily against me saying that it didn't appear to exist. That it was something which only existed inside of my imagination. And in movies. In books.

But, here it is. It does seem to be real. And like waking up from a long sleep, with bleary eyes blinking in the morning light; I still haven't waken up completely yet.

When Fola and I are together, it's like the world doesn't exist. Even with my mom, all time and sense of our surroundings seem to fade off into the background. We spent two hours at Red Lobster, and it felt like no time has passed at all. At my place, there is little urge to watch a movie or play video games or do any kind of "social" activity. We just sit there, or lay there, talking, touching, listening to music, having tea or wine. Smoking a joint. Having a bath.

It's unlike any relationship I have ever been in. This... comforting sense of being alone with my.. twin.. this other half of me, where each other's company is more entertaining than any movie or television show or video game or book. We've known each other for almost a year now, and there doesn't seem to be any slowing down with us. There is momentum beneath our relationship. We are moving, evolving, growing, changing, increasingly with each day that passes.

It's amazing and scary all at once. The awe that comes from being inside of a relationship like this. The moment I let go of my fear, is when it transcends anything I've ever had with any other girl I've been with. When I bare myself to Fola, and open myself up to her; I feel.. so... connected.. with something higher than myself. This grand living principle. This power... cosmic power.. divinity itself, appears to be communed and connected with whenever we are together.

The world stops turning when we are in each other's presence, almost.

And I like that very much. Even if I can hardly believe it at times.

My mom has already invited Fola and I to come to Cuba with her and my stepdad in the spring. I wouldn't mind that. Fola likes the idea.

She just needs money, in order for that to happen.

But.. as silly as it sounds, I think I would be okay with paying for her to come.

I would pay for the trip. And not have second thoughts about it.

And... I have never felt anything like this with anyone else. Where I would spend a thousand dollars on someone.

But with her, I would.

(sighs) Oh, blog.

It feels like what I've been wanting all those years, is coming true.

Love. The greatest kind. The purest kind. Appears to be with me.

And though I am not completely convinced of it yet, I know I am on the way to fully believing it.

The sex we've been having is unreal. There is an evolution to it also. Always surprising. Always refreshing. Always transcending.

And we're both changing. Growing. Moving towards a certain type of outcome.

A dog. An acreage. Travel. Money. Wealth. Family. Prosperity. Adventure.

Realizing our life's purpose together.

Being moved towards it by forces unseen.

The gentle guiding hand of God and all that It commands and controls.

We have surrendered ourselves to you.

And we are excited by your attention,

But we wish to also be deserving of it. To do good things in your name. For the benefit of ourselves and that of others.

To help others, is to help ourselves.

We are still learning.

Still growing.

Still becoming exactly what you wish us to be.

And we will be.

On this great adventure, we will become the man and woman we wish to be.

And the man and woman we are meant to be.

This has been such a crazy ride.

And I am awed by it.

Well blog... I can think of more things to say, but I think I am ending this on the right note.

I am loving and loved.

That is all that needs to be said.

Whimsical

Hello blog, its been a while. I'm somewhat apologetic for taking this long to write on you.

Many things have happened. Strange things. Interesting things. Bad and good and everything in between.

For starters, Fola is like a completely different woman now. Yesterday she decided to stay at my place instead of going to work while I went to do this confined space course. What happened when I came back? She cleaned three of my bathrooms, painted a picture, made blueberry scones and plugged in my wireless speaker because it was low on charge.

Then when I got home, she crouched behind me on the couch and rubbed my back.

And that's not mentioning the text I got from her earlier in the day, "hehe. I feel like a wife."

(sighs)

What a strange incomprehensible woman she is. What a difference. Even had a bit of a sense of humor in her texts, too.

Maybe my ritual is working. She loves me unconditionally, and has acknowledged and apologized for the mistakes of the past. That second part hasn't come true (yet), but the unconditional part... well, it sure is looking mighty nice.

And this is just Fola... She was here on the weekend, and dressed up in high heels and lingerie. I mean.. This is what I've wanted from her all along. But its not all the way there yet. She hasn't completely surrendered to me, but it feels like its almost here.. Almost.

I also did a Reiki course this weekend with Donna and Valerie. Two days for Reiki I and II certification. Also had an allergic reaction to whatever was in Donna's place. Most likely these scented oils they were diffusing. I've been fighting burning, itching eyes and dry skin and hives ever since. Not fun.

Then, there's work. Instead of giving me the three days off I initially asked for, I had to take a full week instead. So, two weeks off. And yesterday I found out that they're giving everyone a week off for a "reset" which means.. yeah.. three weeks off. Crazy.

Three weeks off. I really should try and accomplish as much as I can during it. Fola has encouraged me to start writing more again. I am definitely crediting her with getting me motivated enough to write this post. Sad as it sounds.

There is such an odd thing about my writing that I can't quite pin down. I write... when I feel like I need to. I have this... way of not wanting to write unless it is to impress someone, or if there is something on the line. Of a competitive nature.

I need to... write purposefully. And... I can't discount the value of writing on you, my dear blog, because I always feel good when I do. My thoughts are purged out and made permanent. They're given form and substance. They help straighten out and make my thoughts clearer. I mean, why aren't I writing more often on here? I should be, right?

And so, this is what I need to keep mindful of. To write. If nothing else, then to write on the blog and keep track of my day to day. It's so important. I'm really under-appreciating the value of doing this.

It's important. So important.

I can't lose sight of what I've always been good at. What I want to give to the world is somehow tied into my ability to write. I'm not sure what it will end up being, but it will be something, someday, I'm sure.

And Fola met me at the airport.

(sighs)

What a strange woman.

What a strange life.

I have to realize financial success. That's the goal I am setting my sights on at the moment, and I am about to purchase stocks in the hopes that it will lead towards it. I can't continue on with the rat and cheese maze of having to go to a job that doesn't bring out the best in me or is fulfilling. But, it is a means to an end at the moment and it feels like something I need to do.

Fola said it best when she described how she wants to "contribute" and not "work". I completely agreed with her on that. That's how I feel, too. I want to contribute. I want my contribution to come from a place of passion and desire and responsibility and commitment, and not spend so much of my time at something that benefits a corporation rather than myself and the people around me. Although money is exactly what that helps with doing. I am earning money enough to pursue my dreams.

Whatever they happen to be. An acreage. A dog. A wife and child.

A reason for living.

I am being lovingly guided towards a higher and happier purpose in life.

I am blessed with great wealth and prosperity so I can benefit my life as well as the lives of others.

Fola loves me unconditionally, and has acknowledged and apologized for the mistakes of the past.

Still going strong.

Still believing.

And may my will match that of the Creator.

For I cannot rely on myself to achieve what it is that He wants me to.

I do need help.

And there is no shame in asking or collaborating for it.

So...

Thank you blog, for listening. I will write to you again.

Soon, I hope.

And with more detail.

Arrivi Derci.

May we all be blessed.

Clutches

Well. Interesting day. Interesting life.

All made possible by Fola, mainly.

I don't know what to make of us. I... Maybe I don't understand women. Their menstrual cycles, their irrationality, their mood swings, their lack of self-awareness...

Or maybe its just a Fola thing.

Those barbs.. that girl can sure sling them without apparently understanding what she is doing.

Let me give an example. This morning as she invites me over for lunch, I ask for her sister's address and then she makes a "joke" about how I should promise not to "stalk" her sister's house if she tells me where it is. I felt insulted. It wasn't stalking. And she apologized, but still.. barb #1.

Or wound #1, if you will.

I get there, and she.. answers the door as if I was a regular person. No immediate hug or kiss, no "happy to see me" smile. Just opens, lets me in and walks into the kitchen as if I wasn't really there.

Wound #2.

My time there was fantastic. I just.. preserved myself. Didn't want to expend any energy that I didn't need to, and I was actually more excited to see Ivy than I was to see Fola. We felt like a real family together, and I had a lot of fun playing around, eating a delicious veggie burger (who would've thought such a thing was possible?), and then.. yeah.. I felt like I was part of a family. It felt so good. I felt like the real me came out.

And then of course, Fola grins at me and says, "you really want a family don't you?" and.. well, it was something I've told her plenty enough times before. I wish she didn't have to bring that up and rub it in, because yes. I really do want a family, and she knows that.

Wound #3.

Go into her room, yeah.. not really much of a wound, but pointed out that there wasn't any picture of me on her vision board. Or any pictures of me around at all. She then said she never thought of that, and means to do it "sometime", even though I've framed a picture of us. Many months ago.

Semi-wound #4.

Despite all those, I left on a high note. She texts saying she really wants to fuck me. Great. So did I last night at the airport, but she refused. Saying she was worried about being busted by the cops, even though she asked previously if I had a condom or not. Except in this case, she was willing to have me come over and fuck her later in the evening. In my car. In a neighborhood that she says cops are actively patrolling due to a rash of break-ins and crimes. Seems like its okay for her to get busted when she absolutely wants to get laid, but not okay when I do.

Wound #5.

Airport last night. Came through the doors and saw her. That was awesome. I was happy she was there, but did she smile at me in the same way I did? After all of our texts and phone calls during the week I was gone? All that tension and anticipation? No. She gave me a sarcastic smile and a short hug and kiss. That's fine, but its not what I want. Not what I've dreamed of, anyways.

Wound #6.

After leaving her place, I went shopping. Found stuff for her to give on Christmas. Sent her a long text and she... (sighs) replies with basically nothing of substance. Didn't ask me where I went, what I bought, or expressed any interest in anything of what I was doing. I know this sounds like I'm splitting hairs, but when I give detailed messages that are warm and lively and receive cold, terse ones instead; I just feel like everything is lopsided and I'm giving too much of myself. So.. I was like, "who gives a fuck" after getting this bland message from her. Felt my heart get heavy after that, and I could only think about the wounds she caused me before for me to get to this point.

Also this morning, she shared a fear of hers that I would be "taking advantage" of her somehow, and that I reminded her of her husband somehow, even though she said I wasn't like him. Apparently it was okay for him to sit around on his ass working low-paying jobs and having no ambition or not working at all and staying at home; but with me, she is "concerned" or "fearful" that I would be the same, even though she didn't give a shit about Larry sitting around doing nothing back when it was happening. For the two years they were married. And before, even.

But with me, its an issue.

Wound #7.

After I felt like not caring about texting her, an hour or so went by and I wrote her back. She then asks if everything was okay. I said yes, because I am not going to get into an argument with her about everything else I've written about. That's a losing battle, and it felt like I lied somewhat in not telling her that everything was okay. It actually is okay. I don't give a fuck anymore because whatever is going to happen will happen and I am not going to brute force any kind of outcome.

If she has to asks if everything is okay, then she must know on some level that everything is not okay. That there is something unresolved, lingering or festering or however it should be described. This saddens me. How lacking in self-awareness she is, and I am thinking about the many ways I try to please her and make her happy and I get so little in return. Gave her that Conversations with God book a while back, and haven't heard her talk about whether it was any good or not. It was like dropping it into a black hole. While I was over, I brought over the cool lamp I gave for her on her birthday, and she hasn't said anything about her sister Sade's opinion of it. Even though I had said out loud that I would like to know what Sade would think of it, when she would get home. A simple text of, "oh Sade really liked the lamp" or something to that effect, would have been nice.

But no dice.

Wound #8.

My birthday is coming up. I am concerned about how Fola will choose to celebrate it with me. I am not going to expect anything special or thoughtful, really, even though I tried my best to make her birthday special and put some thought into it. I wrote her a poem, gave her a few things, and we had an amazing time over at my place.

I love that woman, but man... does she challenge my notion of what a person in love is supposed to look and behave like. Gina would've been over the moon had I done the things for her that I've done for Fola... I see Fola as this.. really selfish and ungrateful person. Which brings me to another wound... I found Hungry Hungry Hippos today at Shoppers Drug Mart and brought it over for her daughter.

Fola's words?" "oh, why do you always bring things?"

Yeah..

Wound #9.

She doesn't "get" it. She's this.. ugh

UGH.

This woman that has to be impressed. But is difficult to impress.

I feel like I'm navigating along a certain path, however. This is all good for me to go through. I am evolving the definition of what a man is supposed to be and behave. But... I want a playful lady to be with. Someone who doesn't make mean-spirited and sarcastic jokes. Who is grateful for things that I give her, or do for her. Someone who.. I don't have to beg to be treated well by. Someone who is thoughtful and giving and loving and kind and understanding and sensitive.

And...

Yeah. I already know she's not a good person.

I know this, and yet I still love her and still want to be with her.

And still offered for her to move in. Whenever she likes. Open invitation.

There are lessons being learned here. By the two of us. And.. I get the hunch that ei..

Man.. I am so tired right now and my words aren't coming out as well as I would like them to.

Should I expect a touching poem from her on my birthday. Like she promised she would?

Can I expect her to listen to me, and not ...

Sighs... Wound #10 I'm not going to bother with mentioning. There's enough wounds already.

She's...

A piece of work.

But a work in progress.

Perhaps I am being impatient.

Oh.. Just thought of wound #11. Asking her what she would "label" us as, since she asked me this question before. She called me her "partner" which sounded rather lackluster and drab to me. Why not boyfriend? Lover? King?

Soulmate?

Twin flame?

Partner, was the word she decided on. And all I could think about was two guys in business suits shaking hands. Thats what a partner conjures up in my head.

Her words when I brought that up? A smile and a "its gender-neutral!" as if it was a silly joke. Or something serious. I'm not sure which.

This chick has no sense.

But she does, in a strange sort of way.

Sighs.

I am feeling like this is a process for the two of us to go through. I have a hunch that maybe she's not my true twin flame. Maybe she's the fake one. Maybe my real twin flame is elsewhere, waiting for me to evolve to the next level so that I can be ready and deserving of her.

But I'll have to go through Fola, first. I have to give her my best effort. My genuine self. Most of it anyways.

I am learning the hard way, what it means to be a man.

And she is learning the hard way, what it means to be a woman.

Strange how that works.

The best of me is coming out. And slowly, the best of her will come out too.

I just need to be patient.

And loving. And understanding. And tolerant.

Tolerant, especially.

Tolerant and patent and authentic.

As authentic as I can be.

I do love that woman.

I just wish she could love me the same way.

Sometimes she does.

Other times she causes wounds.

Whether she means to or not.

Well...

I'm so tired. My words are weak. My eyes can barely stay open.

There is a crushing kind of pain in my chest that started around the time Fola said she felt "uneasy" and was going to meditate.

I have a sense that she picked up on my emotions earlier, and this crushing sensation.. well.. it's probably something negative. Tension. Sadness. Whatever it may be, is not of the good sort.

I can assume that it came about while she was meditating. We are connected. Like it or not.

I want to be the best man I can be. With or without her.

And I am taking steps towards it.

And they are both painful and joyous ones.

All part of the game.

All part of the deal.

Onwards.

I am still loved.

And I choose to love.

No matter how many arrows get slung my way.

I will keep coming.

Until I get to where I want to be.

Come hell or high water.

May God be with me.

Too much.

... Has happened in the past while.

Fola and I are back together again, and it was an incredibly intense two days she spent with me. During that time, she knew 100% that I loved her and she (seems) loves me.

I don't know man. I'm waiting for her to call me on the phone right now. It's 9:04pm and I said earlier that I'd be up for chatting at 8:30. She agreed, and I haven't heard back from her since 7:17pm.

Fuck, man. If she loves me, you'd think I'd get a text saying she's going to be late for the call. Just a quick text. Unless something happened, which I'm sure has, but nothing serious enough that would have her leaving me hanging for this long, would it?

I'm perplexed by this woman. She knows I love her, and she is saying all these things about what she wants to do for us, for me and to become the woman I'd like her to be. And the man she sees me becoming.

But, stuff like this doesn't inspire any confidence or trust. Talking is one thing, doing is another, and right now I am seeing that words don't matter very much. Promises made but not carried out, is a blow to integrity and a weakening of trust and an impediment to respect.

There's no..

(sighs)

Not sure what else to write here. Those days we spent together were again as magical as they were when we first met. More so, even. She kept touching me. Looking at me with a shine in her eyes and a smile on her lips.

And she made those promises. Said all those nice words.

Then, this. Waiting 40 minutes now. I'm tired after work. It's been an exhausting day.

And...

Okay. It may have been for her as well. Maybe she's asleep. Could have passed out.

Still, though.

If she's awake, then she's inconsiderate. That's all I can say. She's been selfish since the day we met, and I am dumb for thinking that it can change so easily.

But, maybe love can transform a person. From what I saw of her during our time together and shortly after; she did seem to change.

Perhaps she's just passed out.

However, my imagination is getting the better of me. It's suggesting all kinds of possibilities. But maybe none of them are true.

I could call her right now and see if she'll pick up. But, I don't know. I doubt she will.

(sighs)

This job is getting to me as well. I'm tired of it. They announced that they want us to work 21/7 up until February. That's ridiculous. Lots of money, but ridiculous. There's no life to be had.

And I wonder what I should do about this.

I signed up for 7 and 7. But, I also need money.

(sighs)

God is in my corner. My higher self is looking out for me. Each knows the past, present and future of my destiny.

I am reminded of my ritual a few months ago.

"Fola loves me unconditionally, and has acknowledged and apologized for the mistakes of the past."

This. This seems to be coming true. Against incredibly odds. Although I am waiting now, 50 minutes, I think she really did pass out.

That's the only explanation I think I can accept.

Well, I'm learning to not attach myself emotionally to certain outcomes that are outside of my control. This is one of them.

I have the choice of being angry about it, or at peace.

I choose to be at peace.

Writing is so therapeutic. So cathartic, and illuminating. I discover wisdom in each letter that my thumb jabs against on the screen of my phone.

Each tap, is bringing me closer to serenity. To understanding. To accepting.

Whatever shall be, will be.

I choose to be at peace.

I choose to open myself up to loving and being loved.

I choose to believe in the goodness of all things, and the gifts inside of me that I shall reveal to the world, and to make a meaningful difference with.

I choose to believe.

I am a believer.

And so.

I must live life in accordance with this.

Not because I have to.

But because I want to.

Because I believe.

No matter what gets thrown at me. I will always believe. I have cursed God before, but I have always come back to this force greater than myself.

This benevolent intelligence. This Grand Creator of all that there is, was and will be.

Love. Life. Truth. Beauty.

Justice.

Long as I believe in those things, I will be blessed with experiencing them more fully and more often.

Until these virtues are as much a part of me as my own limbs and skin.

So someday it shall be.

As I inch ever closer.

Good night blog.

I am going to lay my head to rest.

And believe.

A Game of Clue

I'm wising up. It wasn't a good week for me at work. I felt isolated, marginalized and I had so much trouble hearing what people were saying, that it was like I was completely deaf. I faked my way through it, and I don't know how long I can keep it up for.

My hearing is bad. Made worse by the flu I picked up two days ago (three?), the day after I was experiencing the sensations that came about from talking with Fola. Emailing, I mean.

God, man... I'm cluing in now.

Today (yesterday) I didn't feel like texting Fola. No good morning, nothing. And she didn't text me either. I think we both have an implicit unstated understanding of who each of us are, and what we want from our partner.

We don't want forced interactions, a lot like what we've been having these past days.

We don't want.. a weak person to be in a relationship with.

We both want the people we were when we first met.

On the plane, I felt this... chest sensation. It was almost as if my soul was sticking out of my body a little bit. I focused gently on this, and allowed it to be what it was. There was some pressure between my eyes also, and the hour it took for the flight went by like nothing. It was a snowstorm thick enough that you could barely see, and the air pressure was bothering the hell out of my already stuffed up ears. There were times when I felt completely and totally deaf.

Not a good feeling. I could see people's mouths move, and could not hear the words. Could barely hear the engine on the plane itself. Despite my sitting at the window next to it.

I spent all of that flight in a state of meditative trance. Just feeling my core, and wondering what to think of it. Allowed my thoughts to run free as well and they turned over to her.

Wondering if she was feeling anything now like I was.

But, it was when I got off the plane that the seed of an epiphany was planted. Some of the guy's wives and kids were there waiting for them once they got off, and I looked over to the wall and noticed Francis, the project manager, bending down and hugging his kids. Two boys and a girl, I think. All under 7 years old it looked like.

And... the moment I saw who his wife was, I was compelled to stop in my tracks.

Once I did, she caught my eye and smiled and I decided to keep moving forward, so I wouldn't look like a creep standing there watching them. I did walk slow and took furtive glances as I made my way towards getting a cup of coffee before picking up my luggage.

What I saw was Fola. Francis's wife was a black lady who...

Man...

She was gorgeous. Happy. Feminine.

She hugged Francis, who is white, and lifted a leg while doing so.

I thought it was...

Man... (pats chest) I... I thought it was exactly what I wanted.

That kind of version of Fola. Those kind of kids.

And Francis was about my age, and this clone of Fola appeared to be about her age also. Early 30s.

The difference between them and us, as a couple, was striking.

As I made my way back from getting coffee, I eagerly looked for them. They were still there. I couldn't get over how much like Fola this woman looked like, except without dreadlocks and.. she was...

Stunning.

And... I had to think about this. Slowly, at first, before I could understand what I was feeling when I saw them. I saw a white man and a black woman, and three kids. The way Francis stood regal over his clan, and the way his lady looked at him and hugged him... Man..

Oh.. (sighs)

I...  began to think more about the differences and the parallels. Francis wasn't like me at all, apart from his skin color, and he's also French, which makes him even more of an anolomy for a woman like that to want to be with him.

And I thought about it and realized that he makes a lot of money. And it wouldn't only be that he is a good provider to his family, but he seems like a very upstanding guy. Put together, and comfortable in his skin. Dominant and assertive, but reasonable and gentle.

Emotional without being emotional. Sensitive without appearing sensitive.

The opposite of how I was with Fola, in the later stages of our relationship.

As I sat in my car, letting it warm up before driving home; I listened to the latest Ralph Smart video about how to know if you've found your Twin Flame.

It is still inconclusive. Half of what he said, definitely applied to us. Especially the bit about the "eyes" and being able to stare into them and noticing this inexplicable familarity between both.

We definitely have had that.

We don't share the same taste in food, like Ralph said Twin Flames do;  but we do share comfortable silences.

We don't... (sighs) .. I'm a little sad thinking about the points he's raised, because as much as I want them to fit Fola and I, not all of them do. We certainly couldn't respect each other after a while, and thinking about Francis and how Fola and I were when we first met.. things started clicking together in place.

I need to grow up and be a man, for once. And stop whining like I have been doing on my blog. Let women be women and men, men.

I may be amazing and interested in decorating my house exactly the way I'd like to, but that is not what I should be assuming responsibility for. Nor should I be so free with my thoughts and emotions, even to the one that I love. Not to the point where my insecurities are sitting right on the surface, looking like a slab of ugly pimples that are oozing out from their pores.

Men don't allow themselves the luxury of vulnerability and only met it out in small doses. Not large ones. Not unobstructed ones.

The more I kept thinking about Francis and my short-comings, the more I realized that I was not ready for what I wanted. I have not earned, what I dreamed of. I have yet to prove my worth. I have yet to earn respect from the one that I apparently love and want to build a future with.

Yes, I love Fola, but I... She preyed on my insecurities like nothing else. Ralph Smart was right when he said that a Twin Flame relationship is the "holy grail" but can also be the most challenging relationship to ever be in.

Challenging, because each of our faults have to be brought up to the surface. To be acknowledged, and then... overcomed. Corrected. Understood.

And.. Fola and I are not in that place yet, where we have healed or overcome our weaknesses. I don't think she even knows what hers are, but perhaps she does.

Mine are obvious. All I have to do is compare who I was when we first met, to who I am now.

It was not a pretty transition, and I don't blame Fola for having lost interest and excitement with us.

What I became, was something less than a man. I became a frightened insecure little boy who still has no idea of what he wants to do with his life. Even though this boy will be turning 40 years old in a few short weeks.

I have to crystalize and return to who I was once. I need to encapculate it inside of my mind, and hold this image for as long as I am able to. The image of who I once was, must be well-defined and sought after.

And... If all goes well, she would be excited about me again.

Still.. that is... not entirely all I want of this effort. I would re-gain perspective. I would be realizing my potential again. And more importantly, I would be getting my self-respect back.

My blog knows how little self-respect I have for myself. All this whining and complaining.

Yes, Fola and I are... either Twin Flames or False Twin Flames. We're not soulmates. We're something else.

If we are Twin Flames, then we both need to be working on ourselves as well as each other. But I do not know how to talk to Fola anymore. I can't communicate effectively with her like I used to. When I used to get upset, I made sure to show my anger and express why that was. After enough of those episodes, I began to get more upset and less able to express and detach from my thoughts and feelings.

I didn't choose my battles well enough. I didn't hold onto my self-respect. I lost my confidence. Both in myself and in her.

I couldn't respect a woman who changes her views so frequently. Who keeps me guessing constantly as to whether or not she is going to cheat on me, because she does not know if she is monogamous. Although there have been times when she said she was.

I don't know anymore. I'm seeing this as an opportunity.

There is no question that we both share a profound connection with one another, but I appear to be the only one taking it seriously enough that I have become the mother in our relationship, when I really should be a man worthy of respect and admiration.

Because that is what she wants of me. That is what I know she saw of me when we first met.

And...

God. I need to stop complaining. Need to stop dreaming and start doing. I don't like having these dreams that never get realized. I hate having expectations that rarely get met.

I don't want to control or force an outcome, but I do have to control and force myself to be the best version of who I am, and who Fola wants me to be.

That's the challenge, right there.

Taking responsibility for how I feel. Walking off whenever I feel slighted. Speaking the truth whenever it is necessary to do so. Kindly, and with respect.

Being angry when necessary.

Not being a lapdog.

I have to try, my blog.

I am going to think further on how I may best be able to do this.

And let the chips fall where they may.