YOU AND ME TOGETHER…WE CAN DO ANYTHING
These framed pieces hang on either side of our bed. Once upon a time there were no truer words. We would say that we could conquer the world together. And we believed it with all our being! We empowered each other, supported each other, and were the best of friends with out question or hesitation. He calmed me, an anxious, high strung, always hard working Latina; and I unwaveringly supported him, a calm, logical, accomplished, yet easy going Caucasian. Complete opposites and yet the exact same all in one. He was the only person in my life who I felt believed in me and therefore empowered me. I was the only person he claimed understood and was there for him. We were bonded like twin flames.
Twin flame is the term used to describe someone who’s more than simply a soulmate but your soul’s mirror. The energy around this person aligns with your body, heart, and mind. The purpose of having a twin flame is to awaken us like never before and to show us who we really are….
Your twin flame shows you everything that needs to be healed within yourself.
You sometimes feel like you two met at the wrong time, such as when you were in a relationship or going through a traumatic experience.
Unlike soul mates, twin flames do not complete each other. A twin flame comes from the idea that the “Soul” is already complete; you meet this person to aid you in your own life purpose and personal growth.
-zoosk.com
This is a story close to 10 years in the making. I almost don’t even know where to begin. Truth is so much happens within a decade of a persons life that memories start to become skewed, altered, and miss interpreted depending on whatever is currently going on. Currently, we are on the brink of breaking up. We may have already done so however neither of us have fully accepted it yet. This would be the 3rd time in the last 4 months, and somewhere around the 6th time in the last 7 years, if in fact we are calling it quits. It’s different this time though. Less hope, deeper pain, more finite somehow. There have been screaming matches, mostly one sided from me; and storm outs, all from him. How to remember things chronologically after so much time and emotion seems almost impossible. So where to begin?
I had seen him around campus, noticed this older man who drove a black Acura with black rims. A good looking Air Force pilot who sometimes showed up in his flight suit to school. But I hadn’t really paid attention until April 19, 2011. We were in General Chemistry 1, an auditorium that could seat 300, though our class didn’t amounted to even 1/3 of that. In the middle of lecture we were interrupted by two girls who brought in a chocolate cake and wanted the class to sing to this man for his 30th birthday. I knew the girls, 18 and 19 years of age. I myself was 26. So the fact these teenagers were having the class sing to this guy over 10 years their senior caught me off guard, and honestly made me a bit concerned. It definitely did not give me a positive initial impression of him. The professor, Ms. Mallory, was also taken by this student who people seemed to know little about. Six feet tall, dirty blond hair, blue eyes, a very handsome physique, already had an accomplished career… and married.
He walked around campus with a woman that, for a while, everyone assumed to be his wife, but in fact she was a copilot from his base. She was his age, homely, yet sweet, and seemed to be the only woman not pining for his attention. They were both doing pre-reqs for medical school, while I was majoring in biology, which is how we ended up in the same classes. We’ve discussed this in the past, him and I, but neither of us can really remember if we had any discussions longer than just a few passing words until summer semester in General Chemistry 2.
At the time I was a mom of an adorable little four-year-old girl, lived with my boyfriend and father to my child, and worked at the local outlets which is the biggest employer in town. We lived 60 miles north of LAX in a city that consisted of about 65,000 people. I moved to town when I was five, from the valley, and went to school there from kindergarten through college. This was my second go to college. The first time around I attended Moorpark community college majoring in interior design, which is still such a passion of mine. However, I didn’t get along with my folks and went home to a very hostile environment with a physically abusive boyfriend, causing me to drop out. In 2006 I met the father of my child through a mutual friend. What was supposed to be a summer fling ended up with me pregnant 3 months in. 21 years old, a college drop out, part time bar tender, working temp office jobs, and now a new mom; I knew I had to do something, so I returned to school. After a couple years at Oxnard community college I got into California State University Channel Islands. I was so excited and proud of myself, majoring in STEM and caring for my baby. Showing her nothing can get your way.
I am not exactly known for my punctuality. In fact if anyone were to take a bet I guarantee they would say I would be late to my own funeral. First day of Gen Chem 2 was no different. It was summer school after my first full year at CI. That morning I had to drop my daughter off at a brand new day care and rush to class. I walked in about five minutes late, just in time to where the professor had began lecturing, when the ridiculously heavy door, left over from a time when the campus was the largest mental hospital in California, slammed shut behind me with such a deafening sound it gained startling attention from the whole class. I will never forget how he looked at me that day. Sitting in the back of the class he looked up in shock, as did everyone else, but as I walked in he did a double take and I noticed his eyes fixated on me versus returning his attention back to the lecture. He admits to this fact without hesitation to this day. I was flattered, I’m not going to lie. I took my seat next to my friend Sara in the front of the class and could still feel his eyes upon me. During break I found him outside talking to my friend Kelly. She was standing by the main lawn, smoking and chatting with him and a few others from class. He was sitting on the ground, arms on his knees, mostly listening to the conversation. He looked at me and smiled as I approached. Kelly introduced us. RG, this is H- H, RG. I said “hi”, gave a cordial smile and quickly looked away. His eyes felt as if they were burying into me. I didn’t know what to make of it. I don’t remember the rest of that conversation but later that day we had lab in which you had to pair up with a partner and then with another team, so there were 4 people to a work bench. Kelly was my partner, while H and his copilot became our bench mates.
The spring after Gen Chem 1 my boyfriend and I went to visit my brother in Germany who was stationed there with the Air Force. We left our daughter at home per our families conditions, as my uncle paid for our plane tickets. We were not on great terms as far as our relationship. In fact he almost didn’t come to Europe the morning we left for the airport. So it caught me by surprise when, the first day there, he purposed atop the Eiffel tower. He had had the engagement ring for about two years before finally popping the question. Angry from our fight the day before, frustrated, and taken aback, I said yes. With 2 1/2 more weeks left in Europe together, how could I say no?! Knowing it wasn’t right, I was just trying not to fight for the remainder of our vacation or in front of my brother and his wife.
H noticed the new engagement ring on my finger that first day of lab and made a comment about me being too young to get married, thinking that I was 19/20 years old, not knowing I had a child, or really anything about me at all. All he knew was that I was showing off this new rock on my finger. I pointed to the ring on his finger and said “look who’s talking, a bit hypocritical don’t you think?”. We bantered back-and-forth for a little and I bit his head off with my spicy Latina attitude. Most people in my experience have been put off by my attitude, but H seemed amused by it. Not scared or intimidated, but instead curious and captivated. He spent the remainder of the class in silence, just smiling at me, which made me irritated and at the same time intrigued. All I remember is, at first, I wanted nothing to do with him. I felt like he was this cocky SOB who knew he was unbelievably handsome and therefore could get his way with any woman, and I was not about to play into that narrative. Gossip started immediately about us and he just seemed like bad news.
Over the next few weeks however, we got to know each other better; joking, laughing and eventually exchanging numbers for “school purposes“. In fact our first real connection I recall started with the lamest joke ever that we still laugh about today. In a group of peers, walking to lunch, H replied to someones woeful complaint with “C’est La Vie”. I immediately replied “La Vie!” with the biggest shit eating grin on my face. I thought I was absolutely hilarious, but no one reacted or seemed to get it. H turned and gave me the weirdest look, as if I was crazy or stupid, but seeing me giggling to myself he laughed, called me dumb, and returned my glee with a smile of his own. We had so much more in common than either of us could have ever guessed. Political, religious, and family views all seemed to align, but also the way we thought, our sense of humor, and our general outlook on life appeared to be exactly the same. We were able to have whole conversations with out ever saying a word. In sync on every possible level, people noticed. In fact they noticed before we even did. There was something electric about us that was indescribable, enticing, and mesmerizing. To this day, despite our fights, we can only describe it as “we are connected”.
Summer school came and went and fall semester soon started. We were now in Organic Chemistry together and H decided that we were going to be lab partners. Apparently I had no say in the matter. A common theme as the relationship progressed. However, in this case I didn’t mind. He was a straight A’s student and I could definitely use the help. We started texting daily and hanging out at school. He would make me flashcards and study notes with out me ever asking. I got a second job on campus which was financially needed, yet physically and mentally overwhelming. Now working two jobs, going to school full-time, and raising my daughter; time was precious in my world. H noticed this and would bring me snacks to both my jobs, visit me at the outlets weekly which my coworkers noticed delightfully, buy me lunch during school, and always made himself available for homework questions morning, noon, or night no matter what. His help and support was invaluable, and I am not sure that I have ever properly thanked him for it, even now.
As sweet as these gestures were, it was not uncommon for H to go out of his way for any woman, taking them to lunch or brining them coffee to class. Half the girls in our classes felt like they were dating him. This led to many cat fights, rumors, and women hating me for always being with him. I needed him though. His help, his support, his encouragement. He was becoming one of my closest friends. Nonetheless, I truly believed he thought he was gods gift to women. Later I realized it was a pure hearted, well intentioned, possibly low self confidence, white knight syndrome sort of a situation. I was engaged though and knew he was married, so his actions were not my problem.
My fiancé became harder and harder to find. He too worked at the outlets, but couldn’t seem to get out of community college as far as his education. He spent nights at the gym, days either at work or with his friends, and any free time and money… I have no idea where. A new female assistant had started at his job, and he seemed to be unable to talk about anything but her. He was becoming less involved with our family and more involved with himself as my education progressed. He also started becoming verbally abusive, calling me fat every single day (I had gained about 20lbs after the birth of our daughter, am 5’6” and weighted 135 at the time; not fat) and telling me what a bitch and bad mom I was for being gone or studying all the time. I paid all of our bills, cooked dinner every night, cleaned, and did the laundry, all while juggling work with school, and raising our child. So any complaints from him were mind blowing from my perspective. He was unsupportive of me being in school and jealous of me furthering my education as we had started community college together. He kept failing classes despite me trying to help and it seemed to hurt his ego when I was accepted to CI. He had lost his job and I hooked him up with one at the outlets. Despite the assistance he remained ungrateful, unmotivated, easily distracted, and was just an overall child himself. He was unreliable both financially and physically, and I could hardly trust him to actually care for our daughter.
One day, at the end of August, H and I decided to go on a hike in the mountains above the school in between classes. We decided on a “drunken hike”, as we called it, for we were both having some serious relationship problems and needed an escape. We filled our water bottles with vodka, recipe for disaster I know, and climbed to the peak. Venting and laughing, things started to heat up. H showed me his golf swing by standing up behind me, holding me tight by the waist with one hand, and swinging my arms as if they contained a club with the other. Both beyond drunk, I tried to contain my feelings thinking it must just be the alcohol. It was nice to be held though, my fiancé and I had not so much as high fived in what felt like forever. H and I returned to the bottom of the mountain a while later and I immediately had to vomit. Unfortunately for me my only option seemed to be a porta potty in the parking lot because I did not want him to witness my projectile of alcohol and he was refusing to leave my side. I ran in and did what I had to as he circled asking if I was OK. When I was done, we sat on the trunk of his car to try and sober up a bit and he asked to kiss me. Shocked, drunk, and embarrassed, I explained that I had just thrown up in a porta potty and how absolutely disgusting that was, but he didn’t seem to care.
For as intoxicated as we were, I will always remember our first kiss. Sweet and gentle, yet romantic and sensual. A feeling that had never been felt before and I could honestly say would be hard to compete with now. We proceeded inside his car and made out some more when he suddenly, and unprompted, whipped out and started stroking his hard dick, catching me completely off guard. Sitting back, I thought about getting out of the car and walking away as I was almost mortified at the behavior, but for some reason I didn’t. Truth is I wanted him. Two hand jobs and a crazy make out session later, I finally had to leave for my next class. I was full of different emotions. Obviously we both just cheated, yet that didn’t seem to be my main focus. Truth be told, there was another guy, before my engagement, who I would occasionally make out with. He was sweet and kind, not relationship material, but could relate to my home situation and made me feel good. So H was my second time cheating ever. For the record, I do not condone cheating in anyway, shape, or form! I myself have been cheated on many times in every relationship I have been in and would never wish that pain and heartache on anyone else. That being said, life is unpredictable. I was not happy at home, that was no secret. I would say I was longing for companionship and an escape. Still not an excuse, I know.
This situation was out of character for me though. It wasn’t like me to mess around with a guy that fast. I had never done anything more than kiss a guy I wasn’t dating, I was swept up in lust and excitement. Never had I felt such passion. I was also very concerned with the caveat that if it got this far the first time we hung out alone, this married man whips out his cock with out any prior inclination of interest in me, then how many other women is he doing this with? Did the girls in class have reason to think they were dating him? Sounds like insecure paranoia, right. These are not thoughts or questions I would have ever had if I wasn’t constantly being approached by jealous, harsh speaking females who wanted to lay claim to a man that was actually already taken by someone else entirely. He was definitely known as the school flirt and over the next several years a lot of women claimed to have slept with him. He denies this, admits to lunches and coffee but swears that’s as far as it got with anyone else. Some I know for a fact were lying, but others I’m still not so sure. H didn’t seem to have many male friends, just a lot of young girls always fighting for his attention. He also was no stranger to affairs which was revealed during intimate confessions later on. Maybe if I would’ve held onto those warning signs then I wouldn’t be where I am now.
You-and-Me-Wine 