To Those Who Are Lost

I hear you speaking to me, and I don’t ever forget about you. Maybe others can push you to the back of their consciousness, focus on other things for a while while you go up on a missing person’s webpage, but I have the space for you in my consciousness. I’m still setting boundaries with it, but I see you. I acknowledge you, I grieve you, even if I won’t help you.

I guess I just don’t know how to help you, or how to trust myself to help you. You give me information to help you and I don’t know what to do with it. I’m too scared to go find out if it’s real, like I have in less treacherous situations, because in your case, it could be dangerous. And I’m too scared to tell anyone about it because I don’t want to be wrong, or get in trouble somehow. I don’t have credibility.

But then you come through very vividly to me, and you tell me parts of your story, and I’m sobbing about your life that was lost that nobody knows about, and it’s intense. People need to know about you. They need to know your story. If I was able to get over my fear, I could maybe help with closure for you, but I’m not there yet.

Ridiculous, right? Anyone reading this might scoff at the thought that this actually happens to me. That I could be walking at a park in the city, minding my own business, and then start randomly talking to a dead missing girl in my head.

One would think I’m schizophrenic, or just have a very vivid imagination, since I seem to be someone who doesn’t appear to be crazy.

But it’s the names that I hear from them that verify to me that I am not crazy. They tell me their names. They tell me their lives. And sometimes I look them up online, and they happen to be real. How else would they come to my consciousness otherwise? You think I go looking on the missing person’s webpage to find a specific name or person to obsess over that I’ve never met before just for fun? That would be awfully strange, but I get it. Some think I might want attention for making up a cool story.

It doesn’t matter what other people think, though. All I know is my experience. All I know is what spirit tells me, and then from that, what I’m able to interpret with a 6th sense. I think that’s part of what’s frustrating.

To those who are lost. I don’t claim to know your story in all the detail that you try to tell it. I don’t claim to be your only hope in finding closure. I don’t even claim to know that there’s a reason that I can hear you specifically. All I know is I sense you. I know you’re there. Others are sad because you’re missing. Sad because your stories are unknown. Sad because some people don’t care enough to find you.

I’m sad because I can hear you and others can’t. I’m sad because I know you died. I’m sad because you matter, and I’m one person who’s paying attention to you, and I still can’t help you.

I want to get better, though, so maybe I can help you someday. I don’t know if that’s something I’ll be capable of doing.

But why would I have the ability to hear you all the time, if that wasn’t the case?

So many questions to answer in this short time here on Earth. Leave it to me to always make them very complex ones. That’s my soul experience, though. That’s what I see.