Reuniting with my twin flame – Fragments of Truth


And after our extraordinary trip to the Netherlands, we were back to Lausanne’s routine

and it felt unbearable to continue working, when I knew I had so much potential in me that needed to be cherished and expressed

and after several weeks I took the decision to quit my job; we were in March, and I’d be able to go away only in July

but as soon as I took that decision, it started to gradually weigh less on my chest as weeks passed and more and more people were informed of my decision to put on hold my engineering background to try become a writer and a novelist

it wasn’t easy to accept for my parents and my family, and it’s only gradually that they understood, and now almost one year later the process is still ongoing

my twin soul started writing me again after I left the Netherlands

she sent me several spontaneous poems she had written about how she felt, the pressure on her heart, her fear and her refusal to live her emotions, the liberation after crying, the beauty of staring into my gaze, into infinity, and the areas of her that were still repressed, enclosed within high walls

she cried again in the following weeks, in front of her parents too, and she understood again how much, how essential, it was to write for her

and she started wondering if under the wood, the icy landscapes of her soul, was not a fire burning, a fire she had not suspected existed

In the meantime my paintress best friend and soul sister, Chantal, continued to walk side by side with me

we went to visit the painter several times; the most remarkable time, perhaps, was the first time we saw him after the Netherlands

he told us he and his boyfriend had left each other; he said that he had started reading the book I had sent him, Anam Cara, and that he was finding a lot of meaning and serenity in it

he and his ancient mentor treated us as two angels who had suddenly appeared in his life

his mentor told us about how badly he had felt in the last months, as his relationship was degrading

how he had worried for his stability, for his safety even

and we had arrived at the right to offer him a bit of support and warmth and this book that helped him so much to cope with life existential problems

for the first time, the painter told us he was truly admiring and living Spring, looking at it through a new eye

what he didn’t tell us however, is how much Chantal’s paintings touched him

he focused on the book, and barely mentioned the crying painter and the metamorphosing swan, even though he once made an allusion to the latter telling Chantal she had been right about it

Chantal and the painter were both afraid of one another when we met, ending up in long times of shallow, anguished conversation, before suddenly touching some depth

the painter told us he had felt something working within him, resembling to my kundalini, but he was afraid about it

gradually we learnt how depressed he had been during the end of fall, and how it corresponded with the worst period of haze we underwent, and a very negative feeling Chantal felt after Christmas

and from his mentor we learnt he had thrown himself from the first or second floor after he had broken up with his boyfriend

each time we went to see the painter, we met in his atelier and sat in front of one of his recent and most beautiful painting, he had painted around seven months ago, picturing love

two angel trees floating in the sky with the feminine and masculine polarities, in perfect harmony with the landscape surrounding them

the painter told us he had been able to paint it only once he got rid of jealousy

as he painted this canvas after he suspected his boyfriend had cheated on him

he then decided that it didn’t matter, that if his boyfriend and the man with whom he had gone were happy, then why not

he found that force within him not to be jealous and instead loving for all, wishing the best for each person

but perhaps what still lacked to him was self-love

my writing about him is spotty, incomplete, and that’s how he was to us, always contradictory, always few bits of information, never telling all his story in one sitting

past is another thing with which he was not comfortable, and he had this tendency to hide things from people around him

whereas Chantal had the tendency to speak too much of her problems and inner dilemmas to people who wouldn’t understand her perhaps

the mirror between the two is clear now, but it wasn’t at the time, as we were still learning to know the painter, and to know our own selves

In the meantime Chantal started painting with oil too

one of her worse dilemma was how would she and the painter paint together, as she had see it occur in her vision

since she painted with watercolors and he painted with oil

and her drawings were tiny and his paintings were huge

how to reconcile the two?

on top of that he was older, already famous

what could she bring to him he didn’t already have?

faces and emotions and spontaneity I told her

as he mostly painted landscapes, and she mostly faces

even if the reverse sometimes happens

and he paints inspiring himself from pictures, when she paints directly from her imagination

I told her to trust life to find a way to reconcile all that, but as much as we trust life blindly, we also need to grow in our understanding

so she started painting with oil too, and the forest of Anam Caras is the first oil canvas she did

she had brought the painter a few watercolors she had painted, and he was surprised to see how their arts rejoined in their meaning, and even in its theme and form sometimes

April was already here when my twin wrote me a letter telling me she had visited Lille in France, and that she needed her space and freedom now, far from me

she was provocative in her mail, telling me I’d like her to say that she loved me, but she couldn’t for it’d be a lie

and she said that perhaps she needed me, but from afar

and she anticipated my accusations of her captain being in charge again, by telling me she had not felt so free in ages

but she concluded her mail saying that a day that had started great was gradually becoming bitter, and she didn’t know why

I believed her, even though it was indeed the captain speaking, and I knew why the day was feeling increasingly bitter

And I didn’t write her for the next few weeks, until one night I came up with a poem called A Foreigner, expressing my frustration and despair of how empty and uninspired I still felt

I am like a foreigner
In a place I once knew
A place I once knew like my own hand
A place I once called my homeland
A distant dream now
A memory lost

My thoughts are unfocused
My vision blurred
I try to follow one of its paths
But it seems to lead nowhere
I form one step after another
But the landscape around me does not move
I thrive to go yonder
To meet with its depths
With its valleys and its mountains
And its secret towns
Carved in the rock
Grown in the forest
But I can’t even hear the echo of their bells
These bells that used to fill my heart
With joy and sorrow
Sorrow and joy
As the moons grew and waned
And the seasons passed

The veil of deafness has fallen upon my ears
I try to walk further on the path
But there’s a distance with the trees and the bird singing
A gap within me that nothing can fill
The pine needle I rub is scentless
The wild apple I bite is tasteless
My eyes see without seeing
Unconnected from my mind
And my hands lie still
Deserted by the force of life

And the next morning when I woke up she had replied, with a poem of her own

it was a beautiful poem full of light and promises

she told me that after death came life, after darkness came light, and that once the smoke would clear our eyes would form new connections with all what they touched, and we’d retrieve the sense of marvel from our childhood

You can continue your reading with the next chapter of this quest Red Sunset without its own Dawn

If you’re new here, you can start reading this story from the beginning with chapter 1 – The Dream, or the previous chapter Mount Nederlands

“La forêt des Anam Cara” is an oil painting by Chantal Peguiron


About Erik Vincenti Zakhia

Dear all, I will share with you many of my poems, short stories, drawings and paintings telling of my journey of self-discovery and my reflections about life, love, art, spirituality, sexuality, kundalini rise, and twin flames. They all fall within the realm of Hazen. May you have an inspiring visit!


  1. Pingback: Reuniting with my twin flame – Mount Nederlands | Erik Vincenti Zakhia

  2. Pingback: Reuniting with my twin flame – Red Sunset without its own Dawn | Erik Vincenti Zakhia

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