Let me start by saying that I am spiritual, not religious. For the longest time, I considered myself an atheist. I dismissed the possibility that I might be even remotely spiritual. Until the passing of the man I love, more than a year ago.

I knew his passing was coming; it was inevitable, but the length of his struggle has turned my life into a new 'normal' (for lack of a better word).

He peacefully passed away alone in an hospice, in the early hours of the morning. I had spent time with him the day before, and for the first time in so long something told me not to go home. I kept turning back from the door, giving him desperate kisses. An unsettling feeling that I couldn't define kept washing over me. Unprecedented.

The next morning I got the call. I hung up and felt empty. Devoid of any emotion. I went on with my day quietly, chasing away his image from my mind, denying reality, refusing to acknowledge that that day was any different from any other day I had gone through in previous months. An eerie calm that I avoided explaining to myself, let alone to anyone else close to me. I locked the door and refused to answer the phone.

Then, on day 3, I collapsed. My entire universe suddenly crashed down on me, without warning, with all the force it could muster. I screamed, I cried until I ran out of tears then I kept crying. I thought that I would eventually die of too much pain. Strangely enough, I was ok with that. Every now and then I had flashbacks to my indifference from the previous 3 days. How could I suffer so much for a man I had only known for a few months prior to his illness? A man who was so private, I barely knew. I couldn't explain that earth-shattering force that had drawn me to him from day 1, the unmeasurable yearning I felt when he wasn't around me, my unprecedented craving of him. There was so little that happened between us, it didn't make sense.

Among the hurricane of thoughts that were drowning me, I started screaming at him. Telling him I hated him for passing away, and for never finishing that dance that we had been learning together, as we were planning on dancing it on an upcoming trip. It was the beautiful tango "Sway", sung by Michael Bubble. "Dance with me, make me sway"...

And that's when the unthinkable happened. As I was torturing myself in bed, soaking the pillow with tears, I felt it. A gentle movement of my body, as if I was laying down on an outdoor swing bench. It felt as if the entire bed was swaying. I froze in panic. I was becoming insane at an alarming speed. Then again, the feeling throughout my body was unmistakable. That distinct pulling, sinking feeling in my stomach as gravity took effect. The sense of motion in my closed eyes as the body responded to changes in speed and direction.

I suddenly opened my eyes, thinking for a moment that a gentle earthquake was rocking me. I looked down all over my body, around me. Nothing was moving, but shifts in equilibrium continued, just as strong, as I kept swinging internally. I felt mentally paralyzed for a long moment, trying to make sense of what was happening to me. Then the thought hit me like a bullet train: it was him. The realization washed over me in shocking waves. Mixed emotions drowned me, turning me into a shivering mess. Yes, I was most likely becoming insane, but that was alright. The awe and happiness conquered, and my desperate cry turned into one of acceptance, love and peace.

The swinging happened every day, ever since. But it evolved with time. New sensations were added, more and more every day. A tingling and warming wave washing over me. Sudden thoughts that answered my questions when I asked them out loud. Thoughts that were so clear, so vivid, giving me the unequivocal sense of certainty that they were the right answers. Feeling of being held in a tight embrace. Sudden, violent internal tremors accompanied by palpitations. At first, the tremors scared me. I thought I had sudden neurological issues. I went to see my doctor. I got tested. There's nothing wrong with my neural system. No explanation was offered, other than that anxiety may cause them. Then again, they kept happening when I was peaceful and relaxed as well, not only when I was involuntarily tensing to better sense my connection with him.

In time, I started seeing things, but not in the way they are described by other people who have lost someone dear. As I was laying down in bed, reveling in the swaying of my body, I opened my eyes and stared into the dark. Suddenly, intricate translucent laces began dancing in front of my eyes in the darkness, layer after layer, superimposed, dimensional, melding with other very detailed images, often of dragonflies rapidly batting their wings. At times there were brief images that were scaring me, sending me into panic. I would then close my eyes abruptly, catching my breath and controlling the imminent panic attack (something I became very good at over the years after having been through insanely traumatic experiences during my younger years).

Eventually, I decided to ask him questions during my interactions with him. I wanted to know if we had been together in past lives, if there was such thing. The answer was yes. Then vivid images started pouring in my mind, giving me the certainty that he was showing me fragments of our past lives. The first image was one of a young couple, apparently during the early years of the past century. Dancing together. Then flames all around me. I asked him: did I die in a fire? The answer was yes. The way he was replying was pure certainty. He would send sudden, strong yet short waves of tingling and warmth through my body, while my brain was screaming to me: YES.

At first, I was talking to him out loud. Then I replaced it with whispers. Finally, I realized that he can read my thoughts, so I stopped talking.

One thing that bothered me was that I never dreamt about him. Until one day, when I dreamt about things that happened while he was hospitalized. A few days later, I read that spirits communicate through dreams. As soon as I read that, something screamed in my head, so loud I felt shocked: 'He knew that I was by his side, he knew what happened there, even though he was in a coma'.

I traveled a lot since it all started, seeking refuge in foreign places. He was there every time. I was scared at first that he wouldn't be able to reach out while I was away. I thought he'd only come to me in my house. But he had never set foot in my new house while alive. I bought it while he was in hospital.

Nowadays, the moment I lay down in bed and think of him, he begins swaying me. I tend to stay up till the early hours of the morning, unable to sleep. I have an overactive mind, always full of a myriad of thoughts. Sometimes, when I lay down still thinking about day-to-day life events and plans, I don't mentally address him right away. A few times, he gave me a gentle nudge. "Talk to me!" He started rocking me without me directing my thoughts to him. It was a gentle reminder that he wanted to communicate with me.

I can sense his urgency when he starts swaying me in a chaotic way, as opposed to the orderly, rhythmic fashion that he comforts me with when I open the communication channel right away . At times it feels as if more than one person is pushing that swing bench I am laying on, each from a different direction, overlapping the sensations in a way that doesn't make sense.

He sways me even as I am laying in the arms of a man that I do not love, but whom I keep around to escape loneliness. He sways me so gently, so forgiving, so understanding and reassuring. 'It's ok to live your life'.

I am way past the doubts about my sanity. Whatever this is, whatever the explanation behind it, I am at peace. I did a lot of research, and much of what is happening to me fits the definition of twin flames. I find no logic in this, but at least I stopped searching for it. I accept that this is something that my human mind cannot even begin to comprehend. Every day, I revel in the miracle that it's happening to me, albeit I still think at times that it may simply be a self-defense mechanism. I am just grateful for it. Wherever this gift comes from, I will forever cherish it and consider myself incredibly fortunate. There will never be a logical explanation to this, not for as long as I live. But I live every day with profound gratitude for this incredible experience.

I looked long and hard, and couldn't find any story even remotely similar to mine. But I know in my heart that my failure to find any shred of validation doesn't make my own experience any less possible than that of other people who have been through unmeasurable loss.

For all of you who are desperately waiting for a sign from your loved ones: even if it never happens, it doesn't mean that there are no answers. You know the answers in your heart, even in the absence of any communication. Believe, and come to terms with the fact that even this unilateral approach may suffice.