The Fastest Date in the West

In early January 2004, I was sitting across from my friend Bobby in a diner when he walked by. I caught his eye, and he caught mine. Later, we exchanged another glance — his glance lingering a little longer than mine — and all I could think was, Where do I know that guy from?

Little did I know that this man I couldn't quite place in my mind would be the single most influential human being I would ever meet. See, what I didn't know then was that in that diner, at that very moment, I was being introduced to my soul mate; not just any soul mate (I have learned that we have many in our lifetimes) but my twin flame soul mate. The real meaning of "a twin flame" would elude me for over a decade — but its effects would permeate every inch of my life from that moment and for the rest of my life.

I never really thought I'd find my soul mate — not because I thought I wasn't worthy of one; I just didn't believe in them. Out of the billions of people on the planet, there's supposed to be just one person who is a better match for you than all of the rest? How silly. Needless to say, it was not a concept I took seriously or put any amount of thought into. As I accumulated more and more failed relationships well into my late twenties, the idea of being matched with a loving, lasting soul mate just sounded naive — and impractical.

Ironically, though, I was truly a hopeless romantic. It came with my particular territory of being an artist. I hated that I wore my heart on my sleeve for all to see. But my romantic difficulties provided inspirational fuel for my photographs and eventually my professional photography career.

And where but on my sleeve could I have worn my heart, anyway? I suppose I should be grateful to be someone courageous enough to display my sensitivities so freely. But most times, I ended being scorned or belittled by someone, God forbid, for liking them. How dare I! Anyway, yeah, the whole thing was like some karmic curse. So the notion of soul mates was for me akin to unicorns or talking plants. In other words — a fantastical delusion.

In light of all of this, to have a spiritual relationship become the bane of my existence was nothing short of being stuck on a perpetual magic carpet ride. Yet over time, with the slow and steady reveal of an esoteric spiritual truth, I grew to respect and even to covet that relationship. If you know anything about twin flames or twin souls, then you know that your twin flame is literally the other half of your soul. Now I'm not saying that's the quintessential definition, but in having researched and more importantly, found my own unmistakable truth about this admittedly fringe subject, it is a definition I have come to believe implicitly.

If you are spiritually advanced enough to be in the know about twin flame dynamics, then you may think I was extremely fortunate to have found this needle-in-a-haystack soul connection. Tragically though, neither my twin nor I possessed enough spiritual awareness to recognize this divinely blessed bond, and instead of a blissful, enlightening twin flame activation, a stubborn unrequited-ness plagued us from the very start. In learning that twin flames will be met with some of the hardest challenges, there was work to be done, and more than I ever could have imagined.

As time went on, I realized I had nothing tangible to work with. I was blind, deaf, and dumb to a destiny that would pester me until I was left with no choice but to wake up from my spiritually anorexic existence and transform every aspect of my life to fit this one person into a space that he did not in any way, shape, or form fit into. It was impossible — and little did I know, setting out on that journey would kill me. But with the help of unseen, benevolent forces from the cosmos, I would persevere, and I would be reborn as someone I never knew I could be.

This is my story. And it all started with Timothy Seas.

I met Timothy at a small, dark comedy club called The Cut Throat. I was acquainted with the lovely little venue through a friend of a friend, Nikki, a comedian and a fellow student in Timothy's comedy class. Nikki was wicked smart and as witty and sarcastic as they come, and like me, she was also a Scorpio, so we got along great while simultaneously getting on each other's nerves. Then one day, we just didn't talk anymore. Typical Scorpios. Even though it would be some time before our friendship would end, she did do me the single biggest favor ever. She would be the one to give my number to Timothy and tell him I wanted to meet him.

I had already seen him in three shows and even though he was just a student, in all three he was awful, completely eye-rolling ridiculous. Despite this embarrassing fact, I was completely captivated by him. Surprisingly, during the fourth show, without changing an inch of his set, he was wildly funny and charismatic. Everyone cheered him on.

Generally, I required more from a guy to keep my attention than a handsome face and an ability to make me laugh. Intelligence, ambition, and drive were staple requisites for me to take notice of someone, but this man was instantly enough, all on his mysterious own. I could no longer contain my interest — I told Nikki I had to meet him.

I heard from him about two or three days after she gave him my digits. When I answered the phone, I was met with an innocent curiosity, that I wonder who you are kind of initiation. The first thing I noticed about talking to him was how different he seemed from the persona he presented on the stage. He had a normal, no-frills, friendly, engaging telephone demeanor. He didn't try to be funny or to impress me; he was genuinely interested in getting to know me. A couple of hours into our conversation, he asked me to go see Hellboy. He was surprised when I said yes.

"Really? You'll see that movie? Okay, well, awesome." And just like that, we...