Curtiss, A Love Not Possible In Life
December 2020. I woke sobbing and utterly bereft from a dream that still haunts me as I write this more than five years later.
The dream was of a tallish man with long blond-brown hair, sitting at a pub style table on a barstool.
The joy in his face was mirrored in mine as we saw each other.
We talked, but it didn’t last long enough. In that moment, I don’t think a lifetime would have been long enough.
The love I felt in that dream was so intense the longing for it after took my breath away. It was similar to the love felt in the moon pool experience, but in this I felt what might be meant when people talk about “soulmates.”
I wrote in my journal:
the feeling was excruciating because i cannot have that kind of love here. i loved him so much, so pure, and i was utterly and totally bereft when the dream ended. i want to find him.
I remember wanting to go back. I cried myself to sleep more than once. It was such cruelty to have felt that, to have known it was possible, and be completely prohibited from that experience in life.
I don’t know why I know it is prohibited, but the purity may simply not be possible in a world filled with so much noise and trauma.
Now, as I begin to document a decade of experiences leading to now, he is on my mind almost daily. Richard Marx is currently playing the soundtrack to my life, -throws up hands- guess that’s just who I am now, and he’s got a song that hits that same note:
I can see your face
In every shooting star
Can you feel my pain
From where you are?
And I really wanna know was it worth the ride
And will you be waiting on the other side?
Early last fall, I sent out a call. There is another song about love across lifetimes and as I listened to it, I sent it out on the wind.
I am ready. Come to me.
In November, I think the call began to be answered, but I’m in the thick of the story still.
In December, I had an entity encounter that healed my body and set me on a new path, one that is still unfolding now, 6 months later.
In early January, I wrote some of the darkest writing I’ve ever put to paper. I had lost something, something so precious to me that I wasn’t entirely sure I could continue on. And in my grief, I heard, “Megan, I’m here,” three times. Angry at myself for imagining something, I dismissed it. I’m not so sure it was dismissible.
Curtiss arrived in a daytime vision later that month. Just a brief flash, but I saw him through a window in an indoor wall, long hair the clue because his face was imperceptible. I could feel him though, and the feeling was frustration.
By February I was asking:
Will this love find me in a body I can hold?
The answer was Knight of Pentacles, The Womb and Four of Cups.
Through dozens of draws, it became apparent the entity’s signature card was Knight of Pentacles. The Womb indicates something is gestating, not ready yet.
And Four of Cups, well, it came to be about a person, and I’ll share more on that later. Free will and all. Here’s the meaning:
Under the dim light of a crescent moon, a person sits mournfully on a rocky outlook. The dark ocean churns gently below, sweeping away this person’s empty chalices. These chalices once held his hopes and dreams, like magical containers. But the magic faded over time and the dreams were lost - leaving nothing but the weight of 3 empty stone cups. With them gone, he sits in the empty space they left behind. He now finds it hard to bring forward new hopes and dreams. When he’s ready to open his eyes, he’ll see there is one already in front of him! A gift from the universe to light his path and offer a new beginning.
It’s healthy to mourn over your losses and failures or to miss the things you once desired that are no longer available to you. But dwelling too long on the past will only feed apathy and stagnation, so the Four of Cups reminds you there is new hope on the horizon. When you are ready to let go of what didn’t go well, there will be something new and bright awaiting you. Love and blessings lie ahead; have faith and find the courage to move forward.
Keywords: Apathy, disengagement, bad mood, hopelessness.
The answer though, well, I’ll keep you posted. I think it is possible, if a little humanly imperfect. But in the measure apportioned to us here in this frame, there is a chance to spiral upward.
