The Cafe Adventure
It was one of those fine afternoons when the universe feels a little kinder, and you decide to indulge yourself. I set off to find a cozy cafe in my in-laws’ bustling hometown in North India. Wrapped in a white Kashmiri kurti that whispered elegance and practicality, with a brown leather bag that, for once, carried almost nothing, I felt light—mentally, emotionally, and physically. For someone like me, this kind of day isn’t just an afternoon; it’s an achievement.
Walking through the lively streets felt like a quiet rebellion—a solo adventure fueled by a promise to myself to stay flexible and let life happen. And life did happen, in the form of a pumpkin spice latte with almond milk and an unexpected conversation that turned my serene afternoon into something altogether more complex.
Meeting RC: The Intriguing Stranger
I had barely settled into my seat, latte steaming, and the Sunday newspaper folded neatly in front of me, when a voice broke through the ambient cafe chatter. “Do you believe in signs?” it asked. Turning around, I found myself face-to-face with the cafe owner, who we’ll call RC. They were the kind of extrovert who could strike up a conversation with a lamppost if they thought it might answer back.
RC was animated, the kind of person whose energy made you want to lean in and listen. As it turns out, they were thrilled to have a therapist walk into their cafe. “You have no idea how much I’ve been thinking about talking to someone like you,” RC confessed, their excitement palpable. And before I could even take another sip of my latte, RC launched into their story, identifying their struggle with grief and guilt along the way.
Grief, Guilt, and the Dreams That Haunt Us
“I wake up in a panic,” RC began, “with dreams that show me a different life. I have a secure, loving partner—someone I adore—but in my dreams, I’m living a completely different reality with someone else. It’s like I’m mourning a life I never had. And the guilt? It’s suffocating.”
Their words hit me like a familiar tune—that universal melody of grief, guilt, and longing for what could have been. RC’s predicament was raw and relatable, and yet, it carried the weight of something more nuanced. As a therapist (and a human), I’ve come across this narrative before—the tug-of-war between gratitude for the present and the haunting allure of a path not taken.
Twin Flames, Limerence, and Parallel Realities
As RC spoke, my mind couldn’t help but wander to the growing buzz around concepts like twin flames and soulmates. These ideas have a way of romanticizing emotional intensity, making us feel like we’re starring in a cosmic love story rather than dealing with the messy reality of human relationships. I’ve often wondered if the spiritual allure of twin flames is really just a poetic way of describing limerence—that obsessive, idealized infatuation that feels like fate but often leaves us unmoored.
RC’s story seemed to straddle these worlds. Was this grief rooted in a spiritual longing, or was it a psychological echo of unresolved attachment? The therapist in me saw both possibilities. Either way, the dreams were a manifestation of their inner conflict—a call to reconcile the emotional gaps in their current reality.
The Role of Therapy: Holding Space for Contradictions
Traditional couple therapy often refers to these external emotional entanglements as extra-dyadic relationships. Instead of viewing them through a lens of betrayal or guilt, therapy allows clients to explore these feelings with curiosity and compassion. It creates a space where they can honor the parts of themselves that feel tethered to alternate realities while choosing how to ground themselves in their present life.
For RC, therapy could provide tools to process their grief without judgment. It could help them see their dreams not as betrayals but as windows into their subconscious—a place where unresolved emotions and untapped desires often linger. Change, after all, requires both awareness and action, and both can be terrifying.
The Unanswered Call
Despite our engaging conversation and an exchange of contact details, I never heard from RC again. Was I too direct? Did I come across as someone fishing for clients in a cafe? Or perhaps RC simply wasn’t ready to face the enormity of their emotions and the work required to untangle them.
And that’s okay. Change is a deeply personal journey, one that unfolds at its own pace. For some, the mere act of voicing their pain is a step toward healing. For others, it takes time—sometimes years—to find the courage to move forward.
Final Thoughts: To RC and Others Like Them
To RC and everyone else navigating the labyrinth of grief, guilt, and transition, I would say this: It’s okay to feel stuck between two emotional worlds. It’s okay to mourn what could have been while cherishing what is. Therapy offers a non-judgmental space to hold these contradictions, to process them, and to find clarity.
If you’re ready to explore your inner realities and embrace the complexities of your emotional world, I’m here to walk that path with you. After all, isn’t life about learning to dance in the spaces between what was, what is, and what could be?
Hold on a minute, I’m getting a call. Catch you in the next segment!