Hello! I had an old thread, but I feel it became too much of a jumble during a very difficult part of my journey, so starting a new one 
Here is the original THREAD if interested
Timeline
~20 years ago — I meet my TF
In 2006, I moved to another state to be with my boyfriend, one of his good friends. He introduced me to my TF, and I had this immediate flash of recognition—my brain literally went, “Uh-oh.” Maybe it was simply because he was so handsome, but there was something about his eyes.
Life moved on. He married his girlfriend. I eventually married his friend, had children with him, and moved away. That marriage became severely physically and emotionally abusive.
2022–2023 — I “wake up” to the connection
By 2022, my marriage existed only on paper. Unable to leave physically yet, I had what I can only describe as a vivid “soul divorce,” internally setting myself free.
By then my TF had married, divorced, remarried and divorced again. We had barely spoken in years, but in 2023 he joined us on a weekly podcast because we all work in the same creative realm.
Within weeks, I experienced what I believe was a Kundalini awakening. My entire being suddenly felt alive, and it was as though he slid into some missing place inside me. I felt home.
It didn’t go away. Because I’m painfully honest about my feelings—and because I genuinely believed he felt it too—I eventually confessed.
2023 — Rejection and my first major collapse
He kindly rejected me.
I was heartbroken and humiliated. I wouldn’t have confessed if I hadn’t been so convinced this connection was happening between us.
But the sensations, signs and bizarre coincidences continued, and my brain seemingly could not stop thinking about him. I entered the classic “chasing” phase.
A few months later, I learned he was dating another woman he’d previously been casual with. Meanwhile, my husband discovered I was in love with his friend, making an already abusive home situation dramatically more volatile.
My TF told him he’d “never come anywhere near me” and that his girlfriend was basically living with him.
That shattered me. I entered my first Dark Night of the Soul because I became convinced I must be insane. It tore apart my confidence in myself in ways I’m only now, three years later, repairing. I feel this was a crucial component in my journey. Without self confidence in my own experience, I was much more vulnerable to be triggered and unable to cope, thereby forcing healing.
Early 2024 — Healing, then surrender
I threw myself into inner work. I made it unmistakably clear to my husband that we were divorcing—a frightening step—and began trying to find away for him to move out ASAP and get my new life started… FINALLY.
My TF and I remained casual friends. But the girlfriend remained too, despite everything inside me screaming that this connection was real.
Finally, he told me she was coming for his birthday.
I couldn’t do it anymore. Whatever I was experiencing, reality appeared clear: he wasn’t choosing me. Staying around him was only hurting me.
So I surrendered and stopped talking to him.
A couple weeks later, everything changed.
Mid-2024 — The sexual connection begins
About 10 days after I stopped talking to him, I began experiencing what I understood as sexual telepathy.
At first it was vague. Then it became overwhelmingly vivid—directed at me and, frankly, in me. 
I began engaging with it when it happened at night, and soon it became a near-nightly experience of sexuality and extraordinary love.
Over time it became so vivid that I found it increasingly difficult to believe my brain could simply be manufacturing it.
There was one enormous problem:
He had never directly confirmed any of it.
I had signs, timing and countless coincidences that seemed to support my interpretation, but nothing replaces another human being saying, “Yes. This is happening for me too.”
So I remained trapped in ambiguity.
And as the intimacy became more real to me, my ordinary sexual boundaries kicked in. I need to be freely chosen and the only person in someone’s heart and bed.
Yet the other woman was still around.
Worse, I began experiencing sexual sensations outside our usual interactions that I feared were him with her.
I couldn’t establish whether that interpretation was true. But experiencing it was devastating.
I tried indirectly asking him whether he was with someone because I did not want to continue the intimacy under those circumstances. I never received a clear answer.
And when I tried pulling away from the sensations, they frequently seemed to intensify rather than disappear.
So this beautiful experience became horrifyingly double-sided: nightly ecstasy and love alongside heartbreak, uncertainty about another woman, and growing terror that perhaps none of it involved him at all.
Eventually he stopped speaking to me entirely. In 2025, he didn’t even wish me happy birthday, while apparently spending time with his girlfriend on hers.
At that point, the relationship pain became secondary to something much scarier:
I became terrified for my sanity.
I was experiencing what felt like an invisible person interacting sexually with my body, with sensations I couldn’t understand or reliably stop—and I had absolutely no external confirmation of what was happening.
I considered everything. PTSD? Some personality my traumatized brain had created to love me? Delusion?
Nothing explained the experience to my satisfaction, and nothing I tried made it stop.
And, horribly, I only loved him more.
Late 2025 — “Confirmation” and rock bottom
Throughout 2025, I begged for information.
At one point I directly asked whether the connection itself was real. He didn’t answer that question. Instead, he reiterated that he had “no romantic interest” in me and regarded me as an “old respected friend.”
Fucking ouch.
But what bothered me almost more was that I hadn’t asked him to declare romantic love. I was desperately trying to establish whether the extraordinary connection was REAL.
Meanwhile, the sensations continued.
Finally, in September 2025, I tried our indirect method again: I asked him to post one very specific thing if the connection was real and he loved me, and another if it was real but another woman was involved.
Within an hour, he posted something containing both.
It wasn’t direct confirmation. But it was the closest thing I’d received.
For the first time, I felt some peace. If he loved another woman too, fine. It broke my heart, but I could leave. I asked him not to engage with me sexually if that was his situation.
Instead, the sensations became stronger.
I became desperate. I wasn’t asking him to choose me anymore. I was asking for enough truth to make an informed decision about my own sexual participation.
The Google Doc
Eventually I opened a Google Doc shared with him. I couldn’t know whether he actually read it, but it gave me somewhere to communicate without forcing a direct confrontation.
And I absolutely spilled my guts.
Fear. Panic. Trauma. Love. Anger. Everything.
Mostly, I kept trying to explain one thing:
I needed enough information either to feel safe in this intimacy or to know I needed to leave it.
Instead, I perceived his indirect communication as becoming increasingly angry, mocking and sometimes cruel. When I tried stepping away, I’d interpret posts as dismissals: stop focusing on me, get back to work, go away.
Meanwhile, I was divorcing an abusive husband who finally moved out in September, raising our kids, trying to resurrect a career badly damaged by years of trauma—and dealing with this bizarre sexual experience on top of everything else.
It was simultaneously one of the most beautiful experiences of my life and one of the most terrifying.
The thing that finally broke me
Eventually it wasn’t jealousy or rejection that pushed me over the edge.
It was the possibility that I was insane.
After another vulnerable attempt to explain how badly I needed clarity, at the darkest moment of my life, filled with terror at the possibilities of my reality, I interpreted something he posted as essentially shooing me away—“Go on, git”—while I was still experiencing him every night.
Something about that contradiction broke me.
Suddenly the whole thing looked insane. I looked insane.
And I became suicidal.
I reached out through the Doc that night and begged for just one thing: tell me whether the connection was real. Forget romance. Forget the other woman. Just relieve this one terrifying uncertainty.
I received no answer.
I eventually pulled myself out of that place, but afterward my priority changed:
I had to make sure this journey could never take me that low again.
2026 — Saving myself
The Google Doc gradually became something unexpected.
It wasn’t merely a way to communicate with him anymore.
It became a place where I met myself.
I’d bring every trigger there and pull it apart. Why did this hurt? What wound did it touch? What was I afraid of? What was mine to heal?
And I healed a lot.
The connection remained maddeningly inconsistent from my perspective—loving, then cold; blissful intimacy followed by painful triggers; the other woman seemingly disappearing and reappearing.
But something inside me was changing.
Joy returned.
Confidence returned.
My career started moving again.
The cycles were brutal: increasingly deep triggers followed by increasingly profound peace once I understood whatever wound they’d exposed.
And through all of it, he remained essentially the same:
distant, ambiguous and indirect.
Over time another realization bothered me more and more:
I didn’t think he actually saw me.
The entire time, I assumed he understood me and what I was doing in that doc. He got the journey, what his actions were doing to me.
But his reactions often seemed directed toward a version of me I didn’t recognize—someone controlling, demanding, manipulative or obsessed with getting him—when internally I was desperately trying to understand an experience happening inside my own body.
Recently — The final escalation
Last month, the sexual sensations I associated with him and possibly the other woman became stronger than I’d ever experienced.
They could suddenly overwhelm my body while I was out with my children or simply snuggling them—completely outside the time I associated with our intimacy.
I would pull back, redirect my attention and try to shield myself, but the sensations could be extraordinarily difficult to disengage from.
Whether my interpretation of their source was correct or not, my experience of them was real and devastating.
Ambiguity kept me open to it all because I never knew whether I was protecting myself from something real or shutting out something loving. By then I’d also learned something important about myself: belief, certainty, was essential to create distance from him energetically. I needed the TRUTH to shield myself from that horrible experience of him and her togehter. So again I begged him for clarity.
And again, none came.
Present day — Something finally changed
And then something surprising happened.
Despite all the volatility, I found a strange place of inner peace.
I felt whole.
I felt happy anyway.
It genuinely felt as though I’d graduated from some enormous years-long phase of this journey.
And then something happened that confirmed to me that I, at least, had changed:
I got angry.
Not triggered panic. Not frantic chasing. Not please understand me.
Actual anger from the past two years at HIM.
For the first time, I stopped exclusively asking why he behaved the way he did and looked directly at how his behavior had affected me.
I saw how often I’d abandoned myself while trying to understand him. How relentlessly I’d searched for the frightened man underneath behavior that hurt me. How much I’d overfunctioned, rescued, explained and accommodated.
And for perhaps the first time in this entire journey, I felt sorry for myself instead of only for him.
That led to another revelation.
I’ve always believed he’s fundamentally a good, caring man. So why had my vulnerability so often seemed to produce contempt, defensiveness or anger?
My current theory is that he didn’t believe me.
Maybe when I came to him overwhelmed, he saw manipulation rather than genuine distress. Maybe my desperate need for information looked like an attempt to control him. Maybe what I experienced as fighting for my sanity looked to him like theater designed to force a response.
I don’t know whether that’s true.
But considering it unlocked years of anger I’d never allowed myself to feel.
And strangely, that anger gave me something I’d been desperately trying to find all along:
distance.
For the first time, I created the strongest internal boundary I’ve ever managed. The less I focused on what he was doing, thinking, posting or choosing, the stronger it became.
And suddenly I could see the road forward.
Not figuring him out.
Not obtaining the perfect sign.
Not getting him to understand me.
Turning completely toward myself.
Which is hilariously, infuriatingly, exactly what Twin Flame teachings told me to do from the beginning. 
So now? That other womans birthday is this weekend. I am trying to shield up best I can against a presumed date night. I am preparing my heart to be torn apart again.
But most aggravatingly… his response to all of this, because I always put how I feel in that google doc, was to behave like I should just “take a time out for fun, this is all too heavy” or “just have fun with me and have sex”. Meanwhile ignoring the reality of what I’m dealing with. Can YOU just cut and have fun, relax and have sex, when you’re unsure if you’re in a BURNING BUILDING? No. You sorta need to KNOW the building is not on fire first.
And because of that… it’s my biggest proof he is clueless to the reality of what’s happened. And that he cannot see me clearly. This makes me feel like I lost him in a way. Not entirely but… that I can no longer trust talking to him will be heard or understood at all in the way it needed to be.
But even more surprising is… I love him more than ever. I accept him just as he is. And I know that will always be true, no matter what happens. 
THAT’S ALL! 
My 3 year journey so far, in a nutshell. We’ll see what happens next.
