Micah’s Twin Flame Journey. Part III: Broken

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I wake up. Again. For a split second I’m still in that dream space and I’ve not yet remembered why I was so scared to go to sleep the night before. Then it hits me. The words pierce through my being and propel me into consciousness. “She’s pregnant. This is what God wants.” A wave of pressure and heat pulsate through my chest and neck. I immediately go into prayer, though it is more like pleading. “Dear God, please make these transitions fast and smooth and as painless as possible. Guides, please give me the strength to face the day and not cry at my new job. Qwan Yin, please help me shift into a place of compassion and forgiveness. Archangel Michael, please, for Christ sake, sever the cord which connects me to the other half of my soul.” I know Archangel Michael is smiling down on me because he and I both know, that’s not possible.


My twin flame has made yet another poor, impulsive decision. He got a woman pregnant and has decided to marry her. He barely knows her but he is still operating through egoic templates. Conforming to limiting religious beliefs and societal norms – the old relationship paradigm. The superficial, 3rd dimensional blueprint strikes yet again. It’s not the first time he has made such impulsive decisions. Each time his carelessness has more severe consequences. “The universe will keep bringing the same test over and over until you pass it.” I know in my heart that the universe doesn’t make mistakes and he has some sort of karmic debt to pay. I can’t help but explore how it is my debt as well.


My worst fear, manifesting before my eyes. Something I’ve said I could never cope with. But here I am, left with no choice. I recall what my friend said, “you signed up for this because you knew you could handle it.” I find a hint of comfort and strength in her words, but then my next thought hits me like a sledgehammer. He is smiling at her and looking at her the way he looks at me. He is rubbing her stomach. I feel sick. I run to the bathroom and hang my head over the sink, but only tears come out. I lift my head and look in the mirror. I hear my mother’s snarky voice. “He only wanted you for sex. That’s all men ever want you for. He never took you seriously. You’re a joke.”


My intuition told me my karma was not complete in this situation. I knew, even though I had released him in the 3D, I was still experiencing codependent thoughts in the form of seeking validation outside of myself and feelings of inadequacy. I can’t help but contemplate how his behavior mirrors the way I feel about myself and I wonder if I manifested this in some sort of self-fulfilling prophecy. I had forced myself to envision myself completely independent of union with no expectations or attachments to outcome because it was what I was supposed to do. However, that certainly wasn’t the case. I believed we would be in at least partial union by 2018. And even though I went through hell with the purges our initial union and separation initiated, I knew the next phase seemed too easy. The universe has never failed to slam me through steel doors. My journey has never been gentle or subtle. I kept pulling the tower tarot card. I knew the shit was gonna hit the fan. But I never in a million years thought it would be. This.


Detach. Implement strategies. Deep breaths.


But I’m having an anxiety attack. I’m in a foreign country with a work visa on which I lied and said I had no history of anxiety or depression, and I’m having an anxiety attack. What if I spiral from this? I could lose everything.


I recall several months prior, a download I received from source. I was shown that he needed to learn his lessons from another woman. I was utterly relieved. I didn’t want to teach him the basics. I found him wildly immature, both emotionally and spiritually. I thought she would just show him how to take accountability. To communicate. To show up for a woman. But I never imagined that this other woman would become his wife and bare his child. Who has accidental pregnancies in their thirties anyway? I never believed in accidental pregnancies past the age of 15. Either you take birth control or you don’t.


Stop judging her. She is a karmic and you need to honor their soul contract as well.


Oh fuck her. Even if she skipped her birth control there is always the Plan B pill. It’s over-the-counter now. There is no excuse for this and you know it. Judgment is made to correct poor behavior. Instead, she gets rewarded for it. Rewarded with your life. Fuck them both.


I go back to my bed and look at the time. 3:33am. Fuck number sequences too.


I open up the whatsapp conversation, which took place only yesterday morning – the morning my dreams went to shit. The morning I was led by my guides to message him and ask him if he was engaged. I already knew the answer. I had felt their physical intimacy. I read his texts one more time. “She’s pregnant. This is what God wants.” I delete the conversation and block him. Like it matters. But the memory of the dialogue between us replays in my head. “I have a question for you and I need you to be honest with me. Are you engaged to be married?” “Not yet,” he replies. “You are going to get engaged to be married?” I ask. “Yes. I didn’t plan this. She is pregnant. This is what God wants.” I felt pressure in my chest and the heat flush my face. “I’m sick right now. You break my heart,” I tell him. Immediately he starts pulling his usual minimizing of my feelings and explaining why he can’t be held accountable for his behavior because of technicalities. The truth was, he lied to me. I had asked him right around the time of her conception if he was entertaining other women and he said no. I stayed true to him and sent him love in the 5D so he could heal and grow from a situation that was weighing him down. I wasn’t prepared to explain why he was completely shattering my world with this unfathomable news, especially if he was going to continue gaslighting me and justifying his behavior. I simply sent him our story, what I wrote, from my perspective. And a letter I had written to him and never sent. He stopped responding. Then the phone rang.


He spoke first.


“I know you are my soulmate,” he blurted. “I love you and I think about you. The way you look at me and your laugh.”


All I could do was just sob on the phone. He just kept repeating my name as I wept, as if the sounds of my cries pierced his soul.


He paused and said it again. “I know you are my soulmate, but I want you to…”


“I am!” I interrupted. “You’re making a mistake! How could you marry for this reason?”


“I ask myself the same question every day,” he responded.


I pleaded with him not to go through with it. He was obviously having doubts. I tried explain what had been going on from my perspective. The reason why the dark ones visited him after we met – because they don’t want us in union. That I had introduced him to my stepfather in the 5D in the place of the white light and that he told me to save my body for my flame, and that I did save myself. I could only get out half thoughts about what the twin flame experience has been like from my end. I couldn’t even think straight. I just continued to sob. He tried to explain to me that soulmates don’t always end up together and one day we would unite and smile and laugh about all of this. “Don’t give me a fucking pep talk,” I lashed at him.


I couldn’t make him see what I saw. What I knew. I couldn’t protect him. He asked me to let him go. We hung up. I sat there on my bed for at least an hour. I didn’t move from that spot. My vision went in and out of focus as I stared out he window through the bathroom mirror. There were no more tears, just disbelief. It didn’t even feel real. It was like I was outside of my body. For the first time in my life I understood what full surrender felt like.


And just like that, I let go.


photo credit: Akash Singh, Bangalore, India

IG: nomadology_akash

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