From
Journal Entry: May 16, 2011
I had this
dream shortly after the last time I physically saw my twin flame in 2010. At the time, we were both married to other
people. My twin flame was friends with my husband (now ex). Our lives mirrored each
other’s. We both got married around the same time. Our kids were close in age.
There had
been no real conversation about what existed between us. No labels. No
confessions. Nothing spoken out loud. And yet, our souls mingled to proximity
of one another both in each other’s presence and absence through dreams.
In the dream,
he had a vault. Not just any vault…a bank vault. It was hidden, private,
protected. I somehow knew exactly where the key was. It was under the mat. Not
locked away in some impossible place. Just quietly hidden, almost like it was
always accessible if you knew where to look. I let myself in.
Inside the
vault, there were things of value…money, yes, but more importantly, artwork.
Drawings he had made. And I knew in waking life that he draws, so this wasn’t
random. There were also diamonds…many of them drawn carefully on graph paper.
That detail always stood out to me.
Diamonds, to
me, represent something formed under pressure. Something real, rare, and
refined. But the graph paper? That’s structure. Logic. Control. It felt like
emotion contained inside order. Feeling… organized. Hidden. Managed. And then
he shows up. Unexpectedly. But he’s not angry. Not at all. There’s no sense
that I’ve crossed a line I shouldn’t have. Instead, he hugs me. Fully.
Naturally. Like I belong there. Then he asks me, almost playfully but with
meaning: “Who are you working for?”
Like I’m a
spy. And in a way, that’s exactly what it felt like. Like I had access to
something most people didn’t. Like I could see parts of him that weren’t
visible to the outside world. He says I probably make more money than him and
that it turns him on.
And I
understood that wasn’t about money. That was about value. Independence. Power.
The fact that I was standing in my own energy, creating, writing, expressing
myself. He knew about my blog. He knew I wrote. He knew I used my voice. And
that mattered.
Then there’s
urgency. We have to leave. There’s danger. Not in a dramatic sense, but in a
very real, grounded way…like we both knew this connection wasn’t something that
could exist openly in our current lives.
So, I gather
his things. I put them in a cooler. A cooler preserves. It keeps things from
spoiling. It holds something in time. We leave together. And in that moment,
we’re happy. There’s a sense of “we can be together”. But it’s fleeting,
contained within the moment. Then he asks me something that stayed with me: “Why
didn’t you ask me sooner?”
And my
response was immediate: “That doesn’t matter now.”
And it
didn’t. Because by then, the moment had already passed. The timing wasn’t
right. Whatever existed between us had never been brought into the physical
world in a real, grounded way. It lived somewhere else…unspoken,
unacknowledged, but deeply felt.
This dream
wasn’t about fantasy. It wasn’t about some secret life we were living behind
the scenes. It was about access. About knowing that there were parts of him…his
inner world, his creativity, his emotional depth, that I could feel and
understand, even if they were never shared with me directly. And it was also
about reality. About timing. About boundaries. About the fact that not
everything that is felt is meant to be lived out.
Looking back
now, I don’t see this dream as something mystical in the way I once did. I see
it as honest. It showed me that what I experienced wasn’t nothing. There was
depth there. There was meaning. There was value. But it also showed me that it
existed in a space that wasn’t meant to become something more in the physical
world.
And maybe
that’s the real truth of it: Some connections open a door. Some let you see
inside. Some even let you hold what’s there for a moment. But not all of them
are meant to be carried out into the light. And that’s okay. Because what was
real about it… I already took with me.