I just realized that I haven’t written in 5 days. Quite an accomplishment. Not that my wheels haven’t been spinning and life hasn’t been moving, I think I’m just away from my computer and been in my own head so I haven’t done much writing. Classes are officially over and the grind for employment has begun so that’s where I’ve been lately. It strongly looks as though I’ll have the government job I interviewed for, which allows me to sleep and regroup for now as I get ready for the next leg of life. I’m thankful that this opportunity dropped into my lap because it relieves me of the anxiety and pressure of having to find a job. I’ll talk shit about my school all day, but this program literally handed my name to this place for a job, so shit, I’ll take it.
I had a laundry list of things I’d wanted to get done upon graduation, but rather than painting my apartment, jogging, organizing and cleaning, I’ve been sleeping primarily. It’s a gradual process, but my task list is slowly getting worked on. Plus while I was in the mountains, I managed to fall down the stairs (ironic, given this blog topic) and what I thought was a small sprain has actually ended up as a hairline fracture, so there go my plans of running 6 miles in the Peachtree Road Race come July. I’d still love to walk it, but my jogging dreams have been shattered yet again.
I’d be lying if I said that Peter has not been on my mind heavily. He’s still there, he’s just taken on a different form. He still talks to me often. I hear his voice, he moves stuff. I see the signs he leaves me. It’s not so much about me missing him anymore. I’m just getting used to him no longer being in physical form. I happened upon an article the other day that made me think of him even more so than before.
Of this extensive list of things that would be the sign of a twin flame, only 1, 13, 15 are things that don’t sound like us. And if he’d lived long enough, I wonder if those three would have been rounded on out. So those other 15 things were us totally. I think what hit home the most for me was number 17, about the fundamental similarities. Once his funeral was over and I met some of his family, I was amazed to know the things we had in common that we’d never known previously. We are both middle children of two girls, both Geminis, both have difficult relationships with our mothers, both mothers had high ranking government jobs, my birthday is one day away from his sister and his birthday is one day away from my sister, both studied media in undergrad (he and I had discussed that before, I just forgot), both had different fathers from our siblings. One strange coincidence that I never brought up to him (again, not wanting to look like a stalker) is that what inspired me to go to New York for the first time this fall was a trip to an ice cream shop (don’t judge me). The address for that ice cream shop was 2 Rivington St. The name of the shop was Morgenstern’s and they had a black ice cream that I wanted to try. (Yes, I traveled 800 miles for ice cream, what of it? I feel the judgement. Now back to my story.)
Upon one of my Google searches of Pete, I learned that he at one point had a gallery showing at 2 Rivington. I remember looking in that gallery as I walked by while I was leaving the ice cream shop (the gallery is on the left in the picture). Although I had already met Pete, by then, our friendship hadn’t developed and I hadn’t yet Googled him, so when I passed by it, I knew nothing of his time there. New York is a HUGE city, filled with all kinds of galleries and showings. Also, its not like this location is in some sort of funky spot in Times Square, its literally a funky little spot on the Lower East Side. What are the odds that what drew me to that one spot also featured him? I’m kind of random, but ice cream? Don’t get me wrong the ice cream tasted like heaven, wrapped in love, and dipped in glitter, but still. What are the freaking odds that where I went just for ice cream was literally next door to the site of his gallery showing and even shares the same numerical address? He’s my twin flame.
Once I finished the article, I decided to Google people that have had their twin flames die on them. Like me, they mention the unmistakable, unshakable pain of losing this person you had this bond with. They mention the loss of normalcy and love. The discomfort and the ache of the solace in the person they knew- the undeniable connection that only a twin flame can carry and how life after losing one seems to be almost unbearable and pointless. They also largely mentioned the demographic difference many had. Largely age gaps and demographic differences, much like myself and Pete. Hey, at least I’m in good company.
It explains so much though. It’s been over 2 months since he died and I’m still in this spot that I can’t move away from. The plain fact is that I feel like I lost my left arm when he died. You know that feeling when you’ve lost your balance and you reach out for a banister or something to steady yourself and it’s not there? That’s literally how I’ve felt since he died. I feel like I’m moving my arms, reaching out for something to steady me, and it’s just not there.
This article moved me a lot. It made me feel like maybe I wasn’t quite as crazy as I was starting to think I was. I mean a month after his passing, I felt okay to still mourn him and feel him and think about him. But two months in and going strong, perhaps his death really wasn’t like anything else I’ve experienced. What I find odd is that no one else is on Facebook doing those grieving, RIP posts. I mentioned him, both of his sisters did, and 4 other friends and that was it. Perhaps it’s an age thing, or a white cultural thing, but there was no social media outpouring of love. Shit, when Jarronn died, there was easily a hundred posts from people over time on holidays, his birthdays, even random days, putting up pictures, sharing memories, just stopping to say they thought about him.
Pete’s page has been none of that. Nothing. So while I’m often tempted to mention him, tag him, or drop a line on his page, out of respect and not wanting to look like a weirdo, especially since none of his friends or family know me, I’ve been forced to just deal with this solo. It burns though, because I wish I knew other people’s memories of him. I can tell that many of his Facebook friends are his art friends as well, and some from his meetings and recovery, but otherwise I have no connection. It’s odd and it’s frustrating. It could even be the many years he spent using heroin, where he’d just disappear into his other life. I’d mentioned before how he hadn’t touched Facebook in eons until I mentioned it. His whole page was his daughter and ex-wife. Then he “disappeared.” Then he came back with art and his new life. But then he “disappeared”- this time, for good.
The article confirmed what I’d already suspected. He is my twin flame. It doesn’t mean my life will stop. It just means that I’ll have to get used to what is, what was, and what will be. Once again, I’m reaching but there is nothing and no one there to grab me. I’d better get used to this.