Part 20: Twin Flames and Soul-Mates

It's funny, I really don't believe in "soul-mates" in the traditional sense, but I do believe that soul-mates exist on some kind of level. I believe that there are people in this world with whom we have an automatic connection, a spark; people who require minimum effort and, no matter how short or long we have known the person, make us feel like we've got something that can last our whole lives long. It's a deeper connection that I can't quite express with words and I think, as long as we are observant and conscious of it, we all have these experiences with someone at one point in our lives or another.

My soul-mate-friend is named Keith.

Keith was a 5th-year senior Art major during my junior year at the university. We met 3 days before graduation in my sculpture class, which both of us ditched almost on a daily basis, except for the few days on which we had a project due or a test, like the day of our final exam, which just so happens to be the day we met. Keith was easily the best sculptor in the class and always made such interesting and oddly beautiful works. As our other classmates were frantically trying to touch up their sculptures before we were required to turn them in, I walked over to Keith's station and just stood there next to him, looking at his sculpture.

"Um.. hi," he said.

I have a knack for making things really awkward. "Hi." I said back, avoiding eye-contact.

There was a long, uncomfortable pause before I decided to stop being so weird and just talk to him. "I really enjoy your sculptures. You're very talented."

"Thank you."

We ended up making small talk for the five minutes before class officially started, and I found out he was graduating in 3 days and then going to go to Art Center in Pasadena to get a second bachelor's degree in illustration. I found myself rather disappointed that he was leaving. I don't know what it was about him, but whatever it was made me want to know him.

After our projects were all turned in, we were required to take a short written final (as required more by the University than the professor herself). The written test was a combination of essay questions and a slide identification quiz, which meant that everyone could pretty much finish at the same time. When the test was done, the class crowded around the professor in a cloud of waving arms and test papers. Over the noise from the massive herd that swarmed and rampaged the front of the art studio, I heard my name being called. I turned in the direction of the voice, and saw a folded piece of paper being held in my direction. I grabbed it cautiously and looked up to see who had given it to me, and I saw Keith walking out of the door.

I unfolded the sheet of lined paper and stared at what was there; a realistic drawing done in black ink and colored pencils. It was of me, sitting at my station with my back turned, and to the side of the drawing, a scribbled note in hand-written cursive read "Jehoadan turned her back. From: Keith." It was a beautiful drawing, and not just because it was of me.

...

The last day of school came quickly, and I was walking to my car from the Art Department building when I heard my name being called (once again).

I spun around to see Keith jogging toward me.

"Hey. I just wanted to say goodbye," he stated casually, without any loss of breath from his short jog.

"Oh, yes, you're leaving this poor little town and moving on to the bigger and better. I'm truly jealous. I've always wanted to go to Art Center."

"Well, you are always welcome to come and visit. The campus is awesome. I can show you around, if you're ever in the area."

"Thank you." I smiled. And for some reason or another, we hugged. It wasn't at all romantic; we just had a connection that was hard to explain.

I find it very interesting that we keep that; that we still see how each other is in a very esoteric way - a way that is very Proustian to me... something endearing.