I Am Home
A personal story of me
I just found this story, written many years ago, and decided to share.
I am a psychic, an intuitive, and I
work with clients all the time to help them with their future, their love life,
their career and just about anything else they can imagine they need to work
on. But, this is now. Not back then, back when I was 25. When I was 25 I was an accountant and single.
I
never had a father to teach me what it meant to be around men. I never had parents as role models to show me
what love was supposed to be. I had a
caring and compassionate mom, and a loving, yet busy sister, and a brother who operated under his own set of rules. I didn’t know what true love was supposed to
feel like.
I
didn’t know even on my first date with the man I would marry what real love,
love that transcends time and space and follows you from lifetime to lifetime
was supposed to feel like. I didn’t know
until that one day, the day that would change my life forever.
It
was as ordinary a day as any other. The
sun was shining, and a warm breeze spread over the beach as I watched the local
men’s softball game from the stands. I
was there with my girlfriend Cheryl and we were just killing time, soaking up
the sun on this beautiful day. We could
taste the dust from the field as it covered us slightly, the air off Long
Island Sound picking it up and carrying it almost as if sharing a part of the
game with us, the fans.
We
were talking about nothing of any value, nothing even remotely worth
remembering. That was us; comfortable
without needing to make conversation. Then,
Tom pulled up to the curb on a brand new motorcycle. Kawasaki
green, purring as only sports bikes do, rider and steed shining under the light
from the sunshine. No big deal, just a
friend.
I
met Tom in high school. He was not
anyone that would’ve hung out with my crowd; we were just different. As a matter of fact we never even saw each
other. Or at least that’s what I
thought. Apparently, he came into my
classroom regularly, to look at me, to be close to me. I never noticed and he never approached me.
We
met again, years later, when I was 25 and newly single from a relationship that
was something I now realize held my place, kept me in the perfect space and
time for what was to come. We met,
again, through the help of Cheryl and Laura, when they dragged me to the
bowling alley.
“Just
come, you’ll have fun!” they told me as they figuratively twisted my arm and
literally threw me into their car.
“Fine,
but I’m only coming this one time,” I acquiesced, “and you are definitely
buying a couple pitchers tonight!”
When
we got to the lanes Tom was there, coincidentally bowling on the same team as
my girlfriends, excited and eager to re-introduce himself.
“Tom,
this is….” Laura started.
“I
know who it is. It’s Melanie!” Tom
interrupted. “We went to school
together!”
“Right,
I remember. Hi, Tom, how are you?” and
the conversation began and continued of and on for about two months. That’s when I agreed to go out to dinner with
him, just as friends.
Mario’s
had amazing Italian food that night and we talked for hours, driving around
until about two in the morning. When I
gave him a kiss on the cheek at the end of the evening to thank him, as any
good friend would after a friendly dinner, he lit up like a little boy at
Christmas time. I still had no idea what
was to come.
So
here he was, weeks after our platonic night out, on a brand new motorcycle he
had told me he wanted to buy when we were eating that dinner. I had told him I loved bikes, I loved to ride
them myself.
He
waited at the curb on his bike, watching me walk over.
“Are
you gonna take me for a ride?” I asked.
“Sure! I told a couple other people I would give
them rides first and then I’ll be back, ok?” he answered with a smile.
“All
right, don’t keep the girls waiting!” I joked of the others I knew he had
promised. Still I felt nothing. No vibes, no energy; just a guy that I was
friends with on a cool new bike.
I
walked back and continued watching the game with Cheryl until it ended. No Tom, no bike.
“Let’s
wait a little while longer,” I told her and we sat for another 15 minutes, but
still nothing. There was no flash of
fluorescent green, no sound of a wound up engine.
We
started walking over to Cheryl’s red Mustang.
“Can I drive?” I asked her.
“Sure,
I just want to stop and grab something to eat,” she answered.
Just
as we were about to step off the grass onto the parking lot Tom pulled up. With a smirky like smile he said, “Have you
been waiting long?”
“The
game ended about 15 minutes ago; I got tired of waiting!” I answered. “It’s about time you showed up!” I replied with a laugh.
“Oh,
well here, hop on,” he said with a grin and you could just tell he was happy to
have made me wait. Not because he was
mean, but because he wanted me jealous.
He wanted me to love him. I
didn’t. I didn’t feel anything like
that. I didn’t have any warning bells or
psychic signals or puppy dog eyes. He
did; he was puppy dogged out.
“Right. Um, Cheryl, do you mind? We’ll just go around the parking lot,” I tell
her as I start getting on the back.
Totally innocent. Just friends.
“No
problem, but if you’re not back in 10 minutes I’m leaving to go get food! I’m
hungry!” she laughed.
“All
right, I’ll be right back.”
I
had no idea I would be longer than five minutes. I had no idea this one ride would change my
life. I had no idea it would last
forever. I had no warning, no bells, no
psychic vibes. I had nothing, but Tom
knew. He knew way back in high school.
I
put my arms around him and my world changed.
I experienced a feeling I had never felt before, in all my 25
years. I felt like I’d just come
home. In that moment, no, that very
second that I wrapped my arms around him I knew life was never going to be the
same again. I felt as though everything
I’d lived for, everything I’d done my entire life and many lives before had led
me to that very minute in time.
I
was in love and I was home. He moved in
that afternoon, weight bench and a basketful of clothes followed less than two weeks later, and he never moved
out. That was 16 years and two beautiful
and incredible daughters ago.
Through
all of our financial woes, the deaths of our parents and the changing from one
extreme to the other in our careers, we love each other. I am home, and I will be home no matter where
we are, as long as I can put my arms around him.
He came inside
just now, from his cabinetmaking shop in the backyard. Over the past weekend he had asked me when I psychically
saw him getting the next job. He told me
that he had just gotten off the phone with someone who’s name started with the
letter “J” as I had said it would and that he got a new job today, Tuesday,
just like I foretold.
“That’s like
predicting the lotto, Hon! That’s crazy; sick!
You are amazing!” he tells me of my psychic abilities. “You should be on TV! You give me goose bumps!”
“No,
Hon,” I think to myself, “you’re sick.
You knew we were supposed to be together in high school. You felt it then.”
To
Tom I say instead, “We rock, baby! I
love you!” I wrap my arms around him and
it feels like home.