It always scares the shit out me. I fight it for hours, denying the truth… writing it off to delusional tendencies. My new theory is early onset alzheimer’s. It’s easier to accept the looney bin if the cause is something my insurance will pay for.
I’m officially fucking nuts though, because it happened again tonight…
after it happened again today. I will never be able to describe the emotional overflow that tags along. It always builds to a point of hysterics. Tears and shit… sniffling and struggling to breath.
That’s when I give in. Every time. It seems like an exchange, like I’m bartering for the control of my emotions. In return, I give up control of that delusional switch in my brain. As I’m catching my breath, wiping the tears, and calming down to center myself… that’s when I just can’t find the strength any more. The ghosts in the room start talking, and I am too beat down to ignore them. I know what your thinking… Looney bin for this kid, ASAP.
Well, better to be a realist than a pessimist I think. This is my reality…
Tonight… It was my buddy Mitch. He started listing people he wanted me to tell that he loved: his mom, his brothers… he said “all of ’em.” I stopped him there because I knew that the list would be too long for my feeble mind to remember.
He really wants his family and friends to know that when you’re sad and you’re picturing his smiling face in your mind… it’s not just a figment of your imagination. He’s really there with you, watching and listening. He really wants to talk to you. He tries to talk to you. Those things you tell yourself that he would be saying. He is really saying those things to you. He gives you hugs. Yeah, I know, it’s the official kind of crazy.
In conclusion though… I hope science can eventually prove that ghosts exist. I’d feel so much better about myself… maybe Steve Hawking can weave them into his infinite dimensions theory.