“I know,” I whisper. “It’s worth it.” I get on my toes and kiss his lips, holding him to me.
I don’t want to sleep tonight. Tonight, I want to love.
Matthias’s hands move from my hips to my back, pulling my body up until my legs wrap around him and he sits on the bed. I take my time to explore the ridges of his lips. I take my time to taste his tongue when it peeks out for me. His hands hold me in place, close to his body. Then they travel up the sides at a turtle’s speed, feeling every inch.
I deepen the kiss when I feel his fingers graze the sides of my breasts. I’m humming from something inexplicable. This isn’t like other times with past lovers. Matthias isn’t just a lover.
Next thing I know, he’s swept my shirt over my head and tipped me onto my back, pinning me with his body.
“You know what you mean to me. We don’t need words, but in case you’re uncertain, we have a love that’s more than this physical world. More than other lives. It traces back to our creation. You’re a part of me.” His lips crash onto mine, and I wrap my body around his, merging until we’re one.
Throughout my journey, I’ve learned about twin flames. I’ve been in conversations where the difference between a twin flame and a soulmate is discussed. I’ve read about them. I’ve meditated and dreamt with mine. We’ve connected on a soul level. What I couldn’t fathom was what it would be like to physically feel my twin flame.
Last night, I felt him so deep, he penetrated my soul.
Making love to Matthias was what intimacy was born to be. No words to explain the power, the connection.
Every past decision, every lesson, was put into perspective. They all led me here. I refuse to wish I had no one else in my past so that Matthias can be the only man I love in this lifetime. No. I’m grateful I had others before him. I’m grateful I’ve felt other hands on my body. Without them, I wouldn’t have experienced what was necessary to be here.
Nights of pain, questioning why a man didn’t want me, were worth it if I learned a lesson in the end. I’ve not always made the best decisions. I’ve allowed fear and ego to rule me. I’ve turned to desperation. If all of that helped me grow, it was worth it. It’s all been worth it.
With Matthias, I can’t hold back. Our connection is too deep. He would know, he would feel it.
His hair tickles my thighs as he shifts. Matthias picked me up from work and brought me home. We’ve been quiet. His head is on my lap as he reads while I write, using the arm of the sofa as my table.
Writing in my journal has proven to be more productive than my laptop. Journaling has always allowed me to express the inner darkness I carry. It makes sense this book wants to be written in the same way.
“Are you hungry?” Matthias looks at me when my stomach growls.
“I guess I am. I hadn’t stopped to think about it.”
“I’ll make something.” He lifts his head to stand.
“You don’t have to.” I stop him.
He swings his legs and sits up, leaning in to kiss me. “Keep writing. I’ll call you when our food is ready.”
I’ve never felt such peace or comfort with another human being before. Not friends, not family. I’m very reserved. My friends know this about me. All I get from them is, If you need to talk, I’m here. They know not to push, and I don’t offer anything up easily. It’s different with Matthias. He doesn’t push, but I want to open. I want to bleed the filth. I want him to do the same. If we cut our bodies from the top of our heads down our center until our skin fell open like an unnecessary winter coat on a summer day, our core would be the same. Our essence is the same. We vibrate to the same beat.
I wish I could explain it in words, but this is something that surpasses logical thought and lives in an ethereal world.
We’re so much more than bones and skin.
I remind myself of that when the anger consumes me. I’m more than this flesh.
I may come from the roots I’m writing about, but my soul surpasses that to another dimension, another reality not weighed down by dense energy and broken people seeking to understand their pain.
I lie awake as Matthias’s soft snoring fills my ears. He’s been asleep for a few hours. I’ve not been able to rest. My mind is racing for a finish line that I can’t see. My heart is beating in rhythm to the one next to me, despite the inner-turmoil attempting to destroy my peace.
Self-sabotage. I’m too familiar with it. Right now, I feel it clenching my stomach. It whispers that this will end. That one day I’ll wake up to an empty bed and the fading ghost of a man I once knew.
Not with Matthias. Not this time. We have a different purpose in the world than to cause pain with separation. Now that I’ve found him, I’m determined to beat the insecurities.
Not everyone leaves.
Some people stay. Some people fight. Some people are meant to live a forever by your side. He’s that person. Within the struggles that we are facing and will face, we have a purpose.
I link my fingers with his that are wrapped around my stomach and hold on. I close my eyes and chase rest.
“Do you remember other lives?” I look at Matthias sitting across from me on the blanket in the meadow in front of his house. I had the afternoon free, and he’s all caught up with his clients, so he brought us here, made us lunch, and set up a blanket outside.
“Some. Mostly through meditation.”
“I do, too. I have a few where I lost my husband or partner, I’m not sure if we were married. It marked me. I believe it’s why I’ve been so guarded. It goes beyond just what I’ve experienced here. My fear of abandonment is etched in my soul.”
“We repeat experiences until we learn them. It’s time you learn that no one truly abandons you. More importantly, that you don’t abandon yourself. Remember, we all project onto others. If you project those fears, people will act on them. You’ll attract that experience again by feeding the energy.”
I nod. I know all of this in theory, but when it’s our own life, it’s harder to keep in check.
“Besides, now that you’re aware of that, you can release it,” Matthias adds.
“What do you remember of your past?” I lay on my stomach and rest my chin on my hands.
“Bits and pieces. Once I was a poor boy living in slums. Another time I wasn’t the best kind of person. I carried a lot of darkness. While working on this life’s struggles, I realized the man who abused me was in a past life with me.” He has a faraway look as he remembers what brought him to this moment.
“How did you overcome it? The abuse.” I ask hesitantly.
His eyes regain focus on mine. “I’m still overcoming it.” He gives a sad smile, and I can picture him as a child, hurting. I crawl toward him and sit on his lap, holding him.
“It sucks.”
He chuckles at my expression. “It does, but it makes us stronger if we choose to swim above it.”
“It does. Sometimes the rip current threatens us, but if we surrender, we eventually emerge.”
“Surrender,” he throws the word out, testing its sound in the open air. “That’s the key to life, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, but as humans, we’re so conditioned to control.”
“The dangerous power—control.”
I nod, keeping my arms around his body. He squeezes me when my breath tickles his neck. I drop a soft kiss there. Then another right below his ear. His arms twitch again, tightening around my waist.
“We just need to trust that we’re guided on the path that will help our spiritual growth,” I whisper in his ear. My body tingles, being like this with him. No barriers. No fears. No confusion. Unconditional love.
“Navia…” His voice is gruff. His hands skim my back, my skin vibrating from his touch. I don’t answer. I move my face to catch his lips, to share our breath. I’m ultra aware of everything—where his hands are, the feel of his tongue against mine, how his skin feels when I claw my nails into his back. When he moves us, so his body can cover mine.
All that matters in this moment is Matthias and me. Our connection. Our intimacy.
I call out when he enters me, digging my nails deeper into his back. I’ve never felt something like this. It’s more than physical pleasure. It’s our body connecting, aligning our souls, our energy.
We stare at each other’s eyes as we both climax together. In unison.
As we catch our breaths, Matthias lowers my scrunched up shirt. I release his back, allowing his own shirt to return to its proper place.
His lips are soft when they kiss me this time. His eyes look into mine and he smiles.
“I’d always thought people exaggerated when they spoke of the connection between twin flames. Now I know it sounded cheesy because no concrete understanding of it exists, so any explanation sounds like they’re trying to sell a fairytale.”
“Fairytales don’t compare to this,” he says. “Don’t run,” he murmurs against my neck.
“I’m trying not to.”
He leans up on his arms, his body still over mine. “I can’t control what you do, but know I’m not leaving you.”
I nod. Sometimes our life circumstances separate us. I don’t tell him this. I don’t voice my concerns. If I keep them to myself, they won’t manifest. I lie to myself.
I cup his face. “I love you, Matthias. You know that. I’ve done a lot of work to be who I truly am for when I met you. That doesn’t mean there isn’t baggage that needs purging.”
“We both have it.”
With a final kiss, he moves from my body, and we both put on our jeans.
“How is it going?” Makenna asks as I sit on the sofa in the office after dropping a feather in the small bowl I forgot about this morning.
“Good.” I scrunch up the sleeves on my sweater. It’s warm in here. “Why?”
“Just checking in. You seem a little distracted.”
I nod. “I’m processing things.” Makenna doesn’t know much about my life, but I’m sure she could intuitively weed out pieces of me.
“If you want to talk, you know I’m available. Even if it’s to offer some tools to help with the process.”
“Thank you. I’ll take you up on that soon.”
“Good. Now, how’s Matthias?” She smiles mischievously.
“Things are good. We’re in that phase where everything seems perfect. It’s not though, and we’re both aware of that. We’re both working through things that have surfaced.”
“When we meet someone with such deep soul connections, shifts always occur. Don’t resist. Feel the emotions coming to you and have compassion with yourself. You’re on the right track. Remember that when it feels like you can’t handle it all,” she shares.
“Thank you, Makenna.”
“My pleasure, darling.” She smiles and stands. “I’m going to do some work.”
I nod and stand. “I’m done for today, so I’m heading out.”
I walk out into the drizzling afternoon and cover my head with my hoody. People are walking by, in and out of cafés and pubs. Some walking with shopping bags in hand. I love seeing this town with people despite the weather. I head to the crystal shop to buy incense.
I look at the different gems, each in their unique color and cut. I can’t help but admire what the earth gives us when I walk into a crystal shop. I take a selenite and the incense I came for and pay before my purse weighs a ton with the amount of stone I’d want to buy.
I check my phone, noticing I’ve neglected my social media lately. I sweep through my notifications, responding to messages. I see one from my aunt and open it. A video about Family Constellations, the new method I recently introduced at work. I save it to watch when I’m home.
One of the hardest things I’ve ever done was tell her what happened to me. I never meant to. It was one of those things I swore I’d take to my grave. Secrets only weigh us down. They go peeling pieces of us until we’ve lost our core. They destroy us. Keeping secrets holds us back from living authentically transparent. I’ve clung on to it for fear of what someone would think if they knew. Possessive of my secret.
Letting it slip from my tongue almost broke me. I was working too hard to protect others I didn't’ realize it would free me instead. It would free them. As soon as I spoke it aloud, so many doors opened in my life. I see now that one of the reasons I was able to make this leap is due to that expression.
As I continue to scroll through my social media, I notice a few messages from friends I haven’t taken the time to answer. I wish I had an excuse, but I don’t.
I’m not a good friend. I want to be, but I get too caught up in my own stuff to be. I become greedy for my own space that I forget about them. I forget to call or text. I’ll think about it at three in the morning and forget come sunrise. I make plans and cancel. I don’t follow up or write to see how they’re doing. I’m selfish that way.
It’s a flaw I should work on, but I forget as well. It simply slips my mind until I come across something that reminds me of the person. Then I’ll write to them, saying I’d been meaning to see how they’re doing. They never believe me.
I don’t mean to. I’ve just learned it’s easier to live, out of sight, out of mind than distance makes the heart grow fonder.
My defense mechanism will kick in, making me forget about them before they forget about me. It’s what happened when I lost people I loved at such a young age and realized anyone could abandon you in the split of a moment.
As the drops of water strengthen, I walk home. Tonight calls for warm coffee, my journal, and my soul. I’ve been itching to write. To release what I’m holding. I’ve been silenced for so long. Now that I’ve found my voice, I want to roar.
It’s no longer enough to remain quiet when expected or to listen to others complain and not express my opinions. What I used to cower away from is now something I need to express. No more sitting idly. It’s time to speak. Time to release the weight of these secrets.
My phone vibrates with an incoming message. I open the text from my mom.
Mom: I wonder what you were thinking about so deeply here
Attached is a photo of me. I look at it. I’m leaning over a stone railing looking out at the sea. Only a part of my face is visible, but it’s clear my mind was deeper in thought than the bottom of the ocean my eyes were pretending to see.
Sometimes I wonder if my mom imagines what I could’ve been thinking about or really has no idea. I was a girl with too many deep thoughts for my age. It weighed me down, secluded me. I needed to break away from reality many times. They called me a daydreamer like it was a bad thing. Like it was a curse. I relished in daydreaming.
Even if at a young age I didn’t understand it all, my soul was old for my body. It always has been. I still carried secrets that toppled me over. Made me crash. Made me terrified of the dark.
Time, like in this picture, where I could stare off somewhere without someone questioning what was bothering me, was what I craved then and still crave now. Seclusion that allows me time to lay out in front of my mind all the pieces that connect to me, so I can find a way to put them together where the jagged edges don’t hurt. Where they aren’t forced to be shoved into. I want flow when coming together in myself.
A sad smile creeps up on my face when I stop analyzing the photo. I write back, telling her I have no idea what I could’ve been thinking. She doesn’t need to know the truth. It wouldn’t do her any good. This is all mine. To heal and to own.
The person that needed to know for her personal healing already does. That removed a lot of the weight from me. It dissipated my possession over what happened.
I save the picture to my phone and open my journal. I ignore the rest of the messages coming in from my mom, making a mental note to respond to her later. Right now, I’m going to write.
“Have you ever thought about approaching the person and saying what happened?” Matthias stares at me from across the toposcope at the top of Glastonbury Tor. I wanted to come back after I received that
photo from my mom a few days ago.
“No.” I shake my head. “He doesn’t remember he did it. He was acting out of what was taught to him.” I feel like I’ve explained this a million times. Or maybe it’s what I’ve told myself to understand my situation better. My heart breaks for those that were hurt by people who truly meant to. I take in their pain so much, I forget that the little girl was also suffering because she didn’t understand the bigger picture. For a long time, I lived wondering how he could look me in the eye knowing what had happened. He doesn’t know. I’m not ready to remind him.
“Okay.” He doesn’t push.
“Have you ever thought about it?”
“No, but our situations are different. You know that. Mine was intentional. That’s not as easy to forgive.” His voice is tight.
I nod, understanding the hold that kind of pain has. It’s holding me toward my grandfather, and he never touched me.
I stare out into the distance. The view clear compared to the first time we came. I watch the hills in the distance and trees lining patches of land. I inhale fresh air and exhale toxic thoughts.
“Stay with me tonight. The night will be clear, and the stars will be traveling across the sky.”
I smile at Matthias. “Okay.”
He walks around the toposcope and stands behind me, his arms wrapping around me and his chin resting on my shoulder.
I don’t deserve him if I haven’t forgiven.
The thought tenses my body. Is that true? Do I need to completely figure myself out before I can have Matthias in my life?
I shake the doubt away. We’re supposed to continue growing, even if we are together.
But something in my gut kicks me.
Matthias sets a blanket outside of his house. The night is darker here in the countryside. My eyes take some time to adjust, and then I see Matthias’s face looking at me. I lie back and stare up at the sky, reaching my hand out to him so he follows. The thought from earlier today has been stuck in my mind, and I’m trying with all my might to shake it away. Being extra attentive, extra touchy.
All My Truths & One Lie Page 10