Triumvirate Member Emerging

Member the triumvirate?

Here’s how the thing works, and here’s why I can’t explain any of it:

— I start up this writing program tonight. A new phase in my life.

— I haven’t heard from any of my triumvirate in … 3 years? Can’t remember. Long long time. We’ve moved on. Not a PEEP outta one of them. There are grapevine murmurs, occasionally … from friends of friends … but I’ve had no direct contact with any of them, and I haven’t contacted them either. No biggie. I barely think about it – except in rare moments, like when I wrote that old post.

— So last night, I’m online, and one of them emails me. Out of the blue. I do not know where he is living now, or what he is doing, or anything about his present-day life … I am even shocked he has my email. Because as I mentioned in that original post: I never really communicated with the triumvirate in a conventional way. (I talk about them like they are a monlith. Forgive me. They are 3 separate beings, individuals – and none of them know each other. It’s just a shorthand.) None of them are in my address book, for example. I have none of them on speed-dial. I don’t know their emails. You get the drill.

— So anyway. I felt this BOLT of excitement, fear, adrenaline … when I saw his name in my email box. What??? You?????? I was so happy!! Yet fearful, too that something bad might have happened? Has he lost a parent? Has he lost a leg? Has he lost his mind? Why would he email me so after so much time?

— I open up the email. And here is what it says:

“I think you should write a novel about your experiences with me. It would be a bestseller.”

And that was it. bwahahahahaha No catch-up stuff, no “hey, how are you, here’s what I’m up to …” No. He just fired off that two-sentence missive, and that was that.

But … the weird thing is that I’m starting up this writing program … and that email comes on the day before I start it? I try not to be all “ooooh, look at the deep meaning” about everything, but this one definitely struck me as a little odd. And cool, don’t get me wrong. I loved his message. I completely got the spirit in which he sent it.

Of course he would email me with that blunt suggestion after years of no communication. It wasn’t so much: “Write a novel about me!!! Me me me!!” I knew the real meaning instantly. He didn’t even need to say it outloud, because I know him, and he wouldn’t have to explain himself. What he was REALLY saying was: 1. Hope you’re keeping up with your writing. 2. Didn’t we have a blast together? It should be a book!

It’s weird, that’s all. And kind of perfect that it would come now … as opposed to 3 months ago … or even at the time that I wrote that first triumvirate post.

My friend David always says, “Sheila. Your life is a literary conceit. You can’t see it, cause you’re in it. But trust me. It is.”

It is a moment like this that I can see why he says that.

I suppose all of our lives play out like literary conceits.It’s just strange when you become aware of it. The patterns, the hidden meanings …

Like I said, I really try not to bog myself down with hidden meanings, and “oooh, look at the Pattern of Life …” That way heartbreak lies. (See my soulmate series – starting here.) You can’t get too rigid with all this New Age stuff, or it mightl turn around and bite you in the ass.

But still. There’s something a little bit strange and a little bit perfect about hearing from that ex-flame at this particular moment. And with that particular email, too. Not trite, or casual. Not: “Hi, how are you? Thought I’d drop you a line. It’s been a while!”

No. In typical triumvirate fashion, he lobs his cut-to-the-chase message right out there, knowing I’ll catch it, knowing I’ll understand.

And I do.

Pretty cool.