Today I'll be having lunch with one of my oldest friends, second in time only unto Karen. He's very much my fraternal twin, although I spent over a decade of confusion thinking he was meant to be my partner, because when you meet someone who matches you on an atomic level that way it's easy to be mistaken that there must be a romantic connection there. I always thought there was, he never did. He was always smart enough, kind enough, loving enough to hold me at arms length until I came to the realization that we are siblings and not lovers before he really let me in.
It was Michael who shined a spotlight on the fact that he's not my husband, by being my husband himself. I remember writing the email to him, who I call Steve, Steve the Spy, telling him about my upcoming marriage. I said "The reason I know I've found my real husband is that if you rode up on a white horse in shining armor and said 'Wait! Laura, after all this time I've changed my mind!' I would still marry Michael." and knew I was telling the truth. I cried as I wrote those words. The death of one dream and the birth of another is an emotional thing. I was telling the truth then, and I still know it to be so today, yet it can still make me cry sometimes. I could have wasted another decade or two if Michael had not come along and shined his million candle-power light on me.
Steve goes to sea for a couple of months at a time. This is when we're usually closest these recent years. When he's just a few miles away he's busy with this and that and I'm always busy. We call each other once a week or a little more. He's a spy on land because he's tricky and mysterious, and you never really know what he's up to or where he might just show up. When he's at sea though, we send each other long emails and have bared our souls in the last few years. In times past we would spend a lot of time in each other's presence, but not so much lately. We have three or four, maybe five lunches in a year and these are golden. We know we have a limited amount of time to talk. Neither of us take phone calls, and we do nothing but talk. We communicate on a level that is built on a foundation of years of love and respect and secret sharing and the kind of knowing that comes with telling only you these things.
A lot of our past coincides, our pain, our seeking, our discoveries, our truths. Neither of us can lie to each other, we look each other directly in the eyes and with the flick of an eyebrow can completely call "bullshit" and redirect at any time. Neither of us ever had a mother. What a relief to know he's my twin and not my lover, it has freed up the love between us and I can love him full strength right to his face without the polite barrier-wall of kindness coming up. He has always done that for my own protection and his, and I will always be grateful that he had the insight and the patience to wait for me to come into alignment with who we really are. I am so grateful that I have a husband who loves me enough and has the confidence in my fidelity and forever-love for him to let me go love my non-bio brother like this without torturing me with jealousy. My husband and my brother hold each other in high esteem, I am the common point of contact and we all share love.
So we're having lunch today, and he says he has much to talk about. This means that he's going to trust me with some things that he wouldn't talk to anyone else about, and come to me for my insight and feedback on issues that he normally wouldn't share. I'll be talking about my disease, my spiritual awakening and my new marriage which has risen out of the ashes of my old self. He has always loved my marriage and what it is for me, and has given me and Michael his hard-won blessing many times. He loves me, love given with the rarity of large diamonds. To have received as much blessing and support for the union that I've chosen is like being dipped in chocolate. He would never, in his own words "Blow smoke up my skirt." if he thought I had chosen poorly. I don't know what he needs to share about, but I will take it in completely, and meet it with logic and what he calls "laser insight" and give it back with love and some healing, which is my new seat at the table. It will be glorious. There will be no phone or clock. We are timeless, this soul and I.I know and love the woman who loves my brother Steve, and I root for her as she tries to navigate the path of loving this complicated and convoluted man. I truly believe that she is the one who belongs in the place I saw as my own for all those years, and that in itself, to me anyway, is a sign of the rightness of their connection. I thought he was mine for over a decade, if I now believe he is hers then that is a blessing that means something real. I am meant to stay out of it, other than loving both of them with all of my heart, but secretly in my head I am meddling. If meddling were peddling, my bicycle would be flying through the skies. Only in my head though. I'll let God and the two of them sort it out, but I really want him to find and know what I have in my own life, with all the permanence and forever-love that makes my days golden even when it's raining frogs and the seas run with blood.
We were both born only children into different kinds of abuse, yet today twins will meet for some food and talk and love and healing. Thank you God for letting me find my brother.