As I was working on my Twin Flame runner series, the Universe stepped in. Just as I declared that I was ready to run forever, I got pushed into Twin Flame Reunion …

I was at the hospital getting my stitches out from my surgery to fix my broken arm. The nurse had just stepped out of the room for a moment and I checked my phone. I had gotten a text message from a very close friend telling me one of our mutual friends had passed away. That was it’s own mystical experience within itself.

I spent a lot of time remembering my deceased friend and the good times we had together. And the more I thought about those memories, the more I remembered My Twin being there for so many of the adventures we shared.

It made me pause and wonder if anyone had told My Twin our friend had passed away. I knew the news was working it’s way down a long chain of friends but he’s not as connected to the people who felt the closest to our deceased friend as I am.

I looked at a picture from a camping tripped we’d all been on together and decided that My Twin needed to know.

So I swallowed my pride, unblocked him and reached out.

“Hey, did you hear our friend died?” I asked.

My Twin replied immediately.We talked about memories with our deceased friend for a bit. Then My Twin asked me how I was doing.

I cut him off.

“Look … I can’t talk to you right now. If our friend hadn’t died, you’d still be on block. I have a lot I want to say to you and when I figure it out, I’ll be in touch.”

And I spent days figuring out. I went back over things I’d written over the past few months. I went back over journal entries. I meditated. I prayed. Then I wrote a long letter and sent him the key points.

I came out to him as nonbinary and confessed I loved him.

He wanted to video chat so we did.

We had a video chat and we started talking things out. And our Twin Flame Reunion started.

When I decided to stop running, it was overwhelming at first. After our first video chat I felt like I could trust him enough to share the letter I wrote. I told my Twin I believe we’re Twin Flames. I told him I’ve loved him for close to 20 years, and although our bodies don’t match our genders sometimes do. I told him I hated him when I was running because he was mean to me and hurt me. I told him no more friend breakups but we gotta be ride or die or I can’t do this any more. I told him need boundaries because I love him too much to not have any. We apologized for hurting each other. We talked about how we love each and miss each other and how we need to see each other again because we have a lot to talk about in person.

He’s in Japan and I’m in Denver. The time difference is rough. We call each other and text all weekend but we lose track of each other when the workweek starts because of the time difference. I miss him during the week but it stops me from becoming codependent. And it gives me a break because this reunion feeling is so intense.

When we first started talking again I couldn’t sleep and I felt like I was on fire all the time. I felt our energy synching up again and I just had to ride through it. I was dizzy and giddy and confused. I missed him terribly. And I was dumbfounded I’d said everything that I’d wanted to say to him for years. And he didn’t push me away like I feared, he pulled me closer.

I don’t know if we’ll overcome our body mismatch but I know in my heart that we love each other deeply and we always have. The answer is love and it doesn’t matter what type. I accept him for who he is and if he can’t love my body, that’s OK.

Japan is still on lockdown so we don’t know when that will be. But when I see him again I will hug so hard. We’re planning a trip to Hawaii, a good meeting point. I have time to get a part time job now to afford the trip and since he’s still locked down.

I dream of seeing him every day. I know that it will be real one day.

I don’t really know what comes after that.

But I’m happy that I stopped running from my best friend.

And my friend who passed did us a solid by teaching us about how to love each other through his death.

R.I.P., buddy. You worked a healing miracle on us.