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  • Writer's pictureBy Marianne

Twin Flames - The Story of Love

A pure wildness...

The time has come for me to take a break from writing. For a long while now I've been caught up in the midst of a constant creative outflow, with a collection of stories that needed to be shared and told. I've been writing for the blog, writing for the memoir, and writing to other twin flames, and this vast outpouring of my soul has led me through rivers of pain, grief, self-retrospection, and the pure wildness of unfettered, devoted love. But now it leads me to a place of stillness and silence.

It only ever takes one holy moment to open our hearts and eyes anew, and the universe has presented me with another of these chances. It was one of those opportunities where you find yourself back on your knees, knowing that there has to be something that you're not seeing, but no matter what it is, you're willing to open your heart wide enough to receive the truth.

I know I won’t be able to fully articulate what has taken place, and nor would I want to, because when it comes to the real treasures in our soul, we have to be willing to dive deep and discover our own individual pearls. And, of course, there are some things that are just beyond words; like a thousand pieces falling into place in one exhale. Not all of these pieces were new parts to the puzzle, but sometimes things have to collide at the exact same time for all of the tiny, translucent squares to reform the mosaic they were originally a part of. And that’s the moment that the entire picture finally makes sense. In order for that to happen; we need to get knocked down again. We need to find ourselves in a place where there is absolutely nowhere left to run.

The face of adversity

It’s easy to have faith when the path looks possible; when signs and synchronicities are smacking us in the face, but what about when it seems as though all hope is gone, what then? We know the soul is not phased by any eventuality, in fact, in the face of adversity, it believes even more . It knows that perfect love moves mountains. It knows that when all looks to be lost, that's when the miracles happen. But in the turmoil of our shock and grief, when some new development appears to signal the end of the road, it can be utterly bewildering that the loyal flame of love burning in the soul simply refuses to go out.

Since the day Jed found me again, this flame has flickered deep within me. It withstood the strongest of storms and the loudest of thunder. It remained steadfast in the face of relentless rain and wind. Yet surely now, with this new tsunami of knowledge, it would die a pitiful death. Surely now the evidence would quench this insatiable knowing. It would crush the hope and starve the hunger. It would finally, exhaustedly, let the light go out. But no, underneath the pain and the devastation, it remained burning. It cared not for tornado or torrents. It was indifferent to their force. Nor was it taken in by characters and egos, or by mountains that swore blind they could not be moved. But what good was this loyal flame to me? What use? I was exhausted from rising up as the ever-faithful twin, yet what other way was there to turn? I didn't want to wallow and die, yet neither was it possible to propel myself free of this love so that I could just start to live again. I'd tried that a hundred times before, yet whatever way I faced, the love remained unflinchingly present.

Another key

I couldn't find a scrap of hope within this new onslaught of pain and suffering, not until I started to consider that this catalyst was pointing to something I couldn't see, something that I'd missed. Could there be a way through this pain to something else? Maybe even to total peace? Why had I so readily accepted the blow as one of cruelty? Perhaps I'd been handed another key to this whole mystery. But even so, as I pondered the possibility of a breakthrough, the pain raged, and the wounds reopened. I was sick to death of the longing that poured from my heart night and day, sometimes beautiful, sometimes tortured, but always potent. Always there. Always demanding something from me. And alongside this perpetual longing was the immense love that claimed my attention repeatedly, not letting me find peace, not letting me forget.

Surely this latest incident couldn't be another test to gauge if I truly believed in this love? There had to be more to separation than picking myself up, dusting myself off, and bouncing back like a faithful puppy with even more determination. Something started to tug insistently at the back of my mind. The thought that this waiting made no sense. How could it make sense that I was here, faithful, unswerving, pouring with love, and waiting for reunion, while he integrated himself deeper into his family life? How could it make sense that he could be intimate with another yet I would not let myself be touched with anything less than the reverence of him?

Years ago

Although one could label it a sacred calling since one is waiting for one’s self, there also appeared to be something rather pathetic about my loyalty. In fact, I had the sudden urge to laugh out loud thinking of the poems and the songs and the tears I had so passionately and ardently bled out during our separation, while all the acts of grace he gave to me took place years ago. They were real. They happened. They were full of tenderness and wonder. But they weren't here now. No letters. No vows. No mountains being climbed. So what exactly was I waiting for? Was I waiting long enough for Jed to marry ten women? Long enough for him to bear ten children? Long enough for us both to be declared perfect? Did choosing this love, my heart’s calling, really necessitate me to deny all images and wait patiently under the guise of not being 'quite ready' or 'fully enough surrendered.' Was there really some magical spot where the stars would align perfectly and say, ‘Yes, Genevieve, this is the moment. Now you are deserving of reunion.' How could that be true if there was only ever now? How could that be true if I was responsible for my own creations? Surely then, this meant, I had mistakenly thought I was waiting for him, when all the while I was actually waiting for myself?

But what choice did I have other than to wait for this man? I could not turn back. I could not accept a lesser love. Not when I'd found the highest love of all. A love that could not be surpassed. I was stuck in limbo because I could not reverse which meant there was nowhere left to go - unless there was something more than this. I'd considered that concept before, though, and found it to be impossible; impossible since he filled every space of my heart and soul. Still, I allowed myself to comprehend the possibility of a love higher than this one. I released my belief that I knew the all and the everything of love. I offered up my stubborn certainty that this love was firmly encased in the form of Jed and that there could be nothing else.

It wasn't easy to expand my heart like that, not when Jed is me, and yet there was a sixth sense that drove me on; a voice that said I deserved to be loved to the very depth and breadth that I loved, and that I deserved that love right now. I deserved for mountains to be climbed and oceans crossed. And if he couldn't give that to me then surely that meant there had to be something else.

The centre of me

In my mind's eye, I envisioned a ledge with Jed sitting upon it, and as I did so, I opened my heart fully. I looked past his form and waited to see what was beyond the limitations I'd created in my mind. And then, unexpectedly, my heart appeared to expand in many directions at the same time. I felt it swell and stretch as my perception shifted and deepened. An ocean appeared in the centre of me, and I let myself fall into it.

'How can I say this is the highest love of all if that very statement limits the love? By determining a 'glimpse' of heaven as 'all' of heaven I have placed a roof on love. Love can never be the highest because it can only go higher. It is limitless, boundless, endless, and an eternally flowing, creating force. There is no height that cannot be passed. There is no boundary that can't be broken. And furthermore, I have caged both myself and my beloved by insisting that this love can only come to me through his form, even though his form was only ever meaningful to me because of what it contained. This soul, this essence, is a unique chord of music that can sound in any melody it chooses, yet I have permitted it but one song, one path, one way.'

Human games

I could see clearly how I'd become attached to love's 'container.' And like a mental chord being cut, I realised suddenly that it was wholly irrelevant what the Jed character did or does, because the soul was something entirely separate, and it took no part in any unconscious human games. They were two completely different things, just as my essence had no bearing to the Genevieve character.

As if from a distance, I watched myself for the last two and a half years. I witnessed all the love that I'd poured into those letters never sent; all the devotion flooding out of me in tears and poems and just continually giving, giving, giving, to him. But all this time I'd looked past our love. I'd failed to see that the waves of pain and longing coursing through me were from the essence within, begging not to be overlooked, while all the while I wept for physical matter. But this love was never about a 'Jed' or a 'Genevieve,' it was independent of such temporary things. It was an invisible force that could not be contained in flesh and bones.

Of course, on some level I already knew this, due to the telepathic bond and the sensations and the magic, but I'd still been beguiled into becoming preoccupied with the physical happenings. All the while that this love had flowed like a waterfall, constantly replenishing itself, I'd been sitting next to a dry well, blindly insistent that the love could only flow from this one source, and thus blocking its flow from any direction. Therefore, the only person denying herself limitless, phenomenal love was me, because I'd placed stipulations on it. I'd believed that I had to wait for it - that I had to wait for Jed. All the while that my soul told me I deserved to be the only one in the universe my twin could touch, I was accepting otherwise. All the while my soul sung of the mountains that should be climbed to get to me, I was willing to wait for a character who wasn't willing to start the climb. I was waiting, hence the universe had no choice but to wait for me.

Face to face

This doesn't mean that the love won't physically arrive in the form of Jed, but setting it free from any limitations helped to release me from being bound to his character and his story. Before this, if he'd written to me out of the blue and asked to meet up, I would have been shaking and excited and afraid. I would have been so overwhelmed with his presence and coming face to face with him again that I would have fallen to my knees and wept. But all of these responses show that I mistook the love that was here inside of me as being separate from me, which basically means that I mistook myself as being separate from myself. Now, if he wrote, I wouldn't be afraid of losing anything, because I know where the love resides. Of course my heart would race, of course I would want to touch him and love him, but without any fear of loss, because he was here all along.

In the universe's eyes, the physical pictures are almost like an afterthought compared to the glory of eternal love. It's as if we've been given this precious, infinite jewel, yet we overlook it in favour of attachment to the temporary images that swirl around it.

For the first time since Jed went away, I feel like I own myself again. I feel free. I’ve had moments of feeling peaceful before, but these times were always dependent on the belief of a certain outcome, yet we can only truly be free when we have no expectations; when we allow love to be all that it can be without trying to control it. And when we truly release the character and see it for the meaningless vessel that it is, there is nothing left to pine for, or wait for. I've spent a long time crying for the loss of myself, and yet I wasn't missing. And when you understand that, when you truly understand that you are the love, you need do nothing but be that love. You no longer need to talk of separation or alignment or whether this is a time of reunion for all twin flames. You don’t need to look outside of yourself or write to a character to try and convince them to remember you. You don't need to dissect the past or have any concern for what a character is doing. It is only our restricted view on where the love actually resides, that causes us to fixate on our twin's physical absence, or accept less than loving behaviour in an attempt to hold onto the love. But, unbound, this love is a force so strong that if you allow it to, it will reflect back to you in the way your soul deserves; in a limitless way, in a way that is full of miracles.

The Paradox

This physical parting was spiritually ordained for our growth, but the decision of waiting to reach some magical point in the future was not so much a part of the divine plan, as part of a divine paradox. Waiting for another character to wake up, just means we're overlooking the fact that it's our character doing the waiting. Our essence, our soul, cannot wait for love because it is the love, and it's the love that we've ignored and trampled on in our hastiness to focus on the outside.

Flesh or bone

All my life I’ve been here, just waiting to wake up to myself, and now this perfect love deserves my full attention, for it is my beloved. This love was never to be found in flesh or bone or anything temporary. It is this nameless, mystical force that is here, now, in my chest, my heart, and my very beingness. And as you would expect me to disappear if my twin was here in a physical sense, as you would expect me to lay in his arms for a thousand years without wanting to move, it is the same thing. And this love deserves to be heard and seen and held. It is a love that would cross universes to be with itself. It is a love that would die for itself. It is a love that I would recognise anywhere, a love that I allow to come to me through any form it chooses, every second of every day.

I know I've barely skimmed the surface here, but as I said at the start, some things are beyond words, and yet words are all we have to work with. It's so much more than I can convey. It's not about turning away from love because worldly developments say it is impossible, but turning towards the true source of love knowing all things are possible. It is the same love, but now I'm allowing it to express the limitlessness that it is. I'm allowing my soul to give me more than I can conceive of. I am allowing myself to be loved without limits - not some distant day in the future, when my little-self is cured of all flaws or one particular form turns up, but right now.

Full circle

I'm so grateful to all of you who've written to me and shared your stories, but I have to disappear for a while. It might be for months. It might be for years. I genuinely have no idea. All I know for certain is that I have to give this love the attention it deserves. It has waited so patiently for me to come full circle and arrive home. And in doing so, I've dived impossibly deep. I've explored every corner of the ocean in order to grant this love its freedom, but I can't keep talking about it in the context of one man's name. And I can't keep investing in the physical dream.

This whole twin flame conundrum comes to test the boundaries of time and space, and yet we keep clinging to them. We tell each other how long we've been apart, we ruminate over the goodbyes, we try to reach the characters. We look just about everywhere but where the love actually is. But we can't neglect this love for the sake of a game of waiting. And as long as we look at this love through the lens of yesterday, we place it forever in the past, and as long as we look at it through the lens of the future, we place it forever in tomorrow.

My twin flame story, like yours, was absolutely a story that needed to be told, and one day it will be told again. But the true story of love begins right here, right now. It has never been anywhere else.

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