“We are always mentioning people, and in that very instant they appear before us. Over distances, he wrote, one mind develops an idea and another receives it. In 1891, after working with the society for several years, Twain published an essay in Harper’s on what he called “mental telegraphy,” known to most as telepathy, offering anecdotal evidence of correspondents sending “crossed letters” to each another (equivalent to today’s text that arrives as the recipient is texting the sender), writers and inventors coming upon ideas simultaneously and separately, and Twain’s knowledge that he would run into a friend on the street before doing so. A nurse approached to adorn it with roses, mostly white, one red. When Samuel approached the casket, he saw it balanced across two chairs. Days later, in Samuel’s waking world, a steamboat boiler explosion killed his brother. Twenty-four years earlier, Samuel Clemens dreamed of his younger brother’s body in a coffin balanced across two chairs, the body covered by a bunch of white roses and one red one. Mark Twain was drawn to the British Society for Psychical Research, an organization seeking to reckon with paranormal concepts countering contemporary scientific principles, because of a dream. Every day, I change my mind about whether he’s my missing half or whether I just want him to be. We never returned to each other, not really.
I had to go away for a week, and soon after, Carl had to go away for three. It takes safety to dream: to play house in my mind, to build us a little life in the future, to believe we are living in magic and can use it to make us happy. It had never been safe to tell a man I believed in something greater than myself-greater than him. The intensity of my desire made me believe the divine had paired us, and I told him so.
I had never felt this way before until a year earlier, I had never felt much at all for very long because I could mostly submerge myself through intoxication. Otherwise, our halves might pull apart again. We knew we had to keep our bodies together as much as possible. We stared into each other’s eyes, making a psychic rope. Something was different with Carl: I could listen to his thoughts and speak them back to him. I tried so hard to force the fit that sometimes I barely noticed that the force had broken me. I just had to find him and lock myself into him. I’ve been looking for my lost parts forever, so I am never not serious in love. New Age internet says many of us are this way, half-hearts looking for completion.
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