Heaven to Smithereens
Copyrighted by Lorna Tedder. Originally published in Life in the Third Degree.
I could have been with him tonight.
I could have been with him at this moment.
I could have watched the sun rise over the Gulf of Mexico with him in my arms, with this man who has been driving me crazy for months, tickling at both my hormones and my brain and touching my jaded heart more than once without ever leaving a fingerprint on me.
It would have been such a treat for the both of us.
This week, we finally laid our proverbial cards on the table and confessed our secret desires and our private sins and showed each other the cracks in our foundations and still liked each other. Through conversation alone, I already know this man better than my ex-husband and he understands me better than my ex ever could have in a dozen lifetimes. If anything, the secrets this man revealed to me showed me we were all the more compatible than I’d ever believed we could be. It seemed that there was nothing stopping us now from having a real relationship. Finally.
My intuition had told me many times that our relationship was fated. At least several reputable psychics had either predicted or confirmed it, and so had another half-dozen entities on the Ouija board, often spelling out his name and declaring we had a joint mission in life. Even when I tried to ignore my feelings or pretend there was nothing there or that he had no place in my future, his name would crop up on the board as my twin flame or I’d unexpectedly run into him on the way to work.
I tried many times to forget about him, but the Gods kept throwing him into my path—at times, literally.
And just when the promises of prophecy and vision seemed destined to happen, all was yanked back. Not just one issue, but three insurmountable ones. One personal but all of the legal variety. All beyond our control, at least for now.
I’ve been out on a limb with him before and had the limb sawed out from under me because of issues with his ex, but this week, the whole tree has been blasted to mulch by the equivalent of a MOAB bomb or a JDAM missile. One he himself inadvertently fired.
And yet, we are still talking. I wouldn’t have expected to still be talking, and in such a caring way given the circumstances, but we are. And there are hard and deep lessons I learn from this rollercoaster week.
He has a lot to work through, and my heart goes out to him. To me, too, for the loss I feel at this latest news. But his issues have brought up—once again—issues for me, too. In the last week alone, I’ve had at least half a dozen major life-changing epiphanies. Their force and quantity knock me to my knees again.
Some are deeply personal revelations that I squelched 20 or more years ago and of a nature I won’t commit to writing or admit to anyone other than this man who shared his own similar secrets. In short, not a soul in the world knows but him.
Another epiphany dredges up my own views of right and wrong and how someone like me who has been called “overly ethical” and accused of having integrity to a level that’s unnatural can be willing to delve into the gray areas without flinching. I’ve always been proud of my integrity and set ethical standards that exceeded any requirements in my civil service career. Yet, with this man, I cannot see where he has violated any ethical considerations. I’d score his integrity at the same grade as my own.
Yet another epiphany. The revelation of what does and doesn’t bother me in accordance with society’s standards isn’t really shocking, but it’s a situation I’ve never considered. My friends and colleagues would probably not agree with what I find acceptable to me personally, but I also am tested again on where I would draw the line in a love relationship and where I would walk away.
Other epiphanies bring up long-subdued anger at another man in my past who tried to manipulate and “guilt” me into working for free for him for a year and signing legal documents that would have cemented me into his life forever, not just as part of a business partnership but as the permanent fire in his life. I knew at the time we talked that he was lying to me, that he was pretending to rekindle a long-lost love relationship to entice me to sign away my freedom and finances. I knew without a doubt that while he was courting my writing talent, he was proposing marriage to another woman, even though he was careful to have me believe otherwise. In fact, he never mentioned anything to tip me off that he was otherwise engaged—though his daughter accidentally betrayed this information long after I’d refused him. It was my intuition alone that told me what was going on, and beyond that, my budding psychic abilities.
But more than the resurfacing of anger over an old manipulation, I’m also shown a contrast in these two men—one deliberately misleading me for his own gain and now this man confessing his flaws when he didn’t have to, knowing it would likely cost our relationship, concerned about my own well-being, being as honest and open with me as he could be even when it wasn’t an easy or pretty picture to describe.
There’s a lesson, too, in my quest to love without attachment and to love unconditionally, flaws and all. To realize no man is going to be perfect in every way, but to accept him as he is just as I want to be accepted as I am. I love him without expecting him to earn my love. To allow him to just be. I’ve been doing this, but the stakes just went up a big notch.
But the strongest epiphany yet—from this week, at least—is the understanding of why I’ve been so at war with my intuition this past year.
I don’t realize it until I’m talking to my former High Priestess. My psychic and empathic abilities have grown by leaps and bounds since last fall. My intuition is now dead-on, and I know how to recognize what it’s telling me. It’s close to 100% correct at work, at home, at almost everywhere. I had once thought it was close to perfect except in regard to men, but my recent months of experience with the opposite sex lead me to believe that I can “tap in” and know right away if a new man is lying or if we’re compatible or if a date would be a sheer waste of time when I could be writing or pursuing creative endeavors. Enough men have crossed my path that I now totally trust my intuition…except with this one man.
No doubts with any other man. None. Or any other situation. Just him.
“Why is that?” the High Priestess wants to know.
I tell her the truth. I don’t know. But now it hits me.
With this man, my intuition tells me certain things about him and about our future mission together. But I don’t trust it. I seek validation from my psychic counselors and friends and Tarot and Ouija entities waiting in the Ether. They tell me my intuition is correct. I trust them…then get nervous, especially after a week like this one, and I don’t trust it after a while. I can’t get enough validation.
Why? Why this one man?
Ah, but it’s because this guy and the level of compatibility seem too good to be true. My intuition says he is as close as I’ll come anytime soon to a “perfect match” for my spiritual, emotional, intellectual, psychological, and physical needs. I still haven’t figured out the ramifications at this point.
“Do you think you don’t deserve someone good?” my daughter asks later when we go for a long walk.
I assure her that no, that’s not it. I deserve this. I so deserve what this man can offer. It’s more than anyone I’ve ever known has had the capacity to offer.
And now I see. It’s part of a pattern. Times before, times when things were good but not wonderful with men I loved, having the kind of relationship I wanted seemed so close, but each time, it was just illusion. Manipulation. Toying with my emotions and self-esteem to use my fire to their advantage.
Now here’s the kind of relationship I want, have always wanted, and it seems too good to be true. Because all the others were. Because I was fooled before.
Because I expect this one to repeat the pattern and to be disappointed. So even though my intuition says this man is different, my recently broken heart can’t accept that this time could be for real.
Not that it matters right now. Because even if it is for real and my intuition and the psychics and the spirit guides are all correct that this is the guy for me, we can’t have a relationship. The obstacles have been laid down before us and laid down hard.
At least for the moment, there’s nothing either of us can do. And certainly nothing we can do on this night when we might have been together but aren’t.