Being psychic is hard. It's raw. It's intense... WAY too intense, like being naked 24/7. Sometimes it picks me up into an unimaginable paradise only to shred my soul into 100 little tortured pieces. I don't like getting too emotionally close to people because I always end up seeing too much, knowing too much and honestly I just don't fucking like living in someone's hell while they are going through it. This is what I mean: _____________ Many years ago I briefly hung out with a chick who I absolutely fell in love with but for many reasons, it was mostly an unrequited romance. This was before I experienced the onset of paranormal abilities, which is a good thing because if I knew then what I did now, this would be a very, very different story. I was young, man. I was naive and just socially unaware. She knew it and she just...it was like trying to kiss a bullet train that was speeding past. Pure emotional carnage. I was blind so I couldn't see how much she was exploiting and using me up so it continued for a while. The cherry on top is when I finally went to jail for a "shit and a shave" (6 weeks) and basically she left for the big city to chase her dreams, brand new boyfriend in her arms while like a forgotten toy in an abandoned house, I faded away. Thinking about it still kinda makes me mad and actually, the light switch above me just started swinging so I'll cool it for a second because if I'm to be frank, I deserved it. I was doing cpa junk spam so that was my karma. I sobered up, realized what happened and I hated her. Actually I went through my whole redpill/hating women phase for a bit but as they say, time heals all wounds. I woke up one day and I realized I hadn't thought about her for a month and I knew that's when I'd moved on. But then these abilities came and every once in a while they find a way of digging up old memories and updating me on people - as if it thinks I want to know (I fucking don't). I keep a private, offline dream journal with most of the personal stuff I've experienced that will hopefully never see the light of day. In 2014, I had a really bad nightmare about that girl and I knew she was facing some kind of major addiction problem. I didn't really think much about it, but I wrote it down anyway because I don't think I'd had another dream about her in years and that's usually a sign that I'm getting something. I didn't feel vengeful, I actually felt pretty bad because I was also struggling with alcoholism and I know how bad that is. Anyway, I had another one of those dreams a few days ago so I decided to look her up and see what she's up to. I found out she had a tumblr page. To keep this short, right when I had that dream is when she took many months from posting and her posts changed into a darker/depressed tone. Then I saw she was talking about how scary her xanax habit was and how it was getting out of control. To be honest mate, her words haunted me. Part of me still likes her - not romantically - but because beneath all the shit and the evil this woman did, there really was something special about her. She's an amazing writer. She just has a way of saying things that conveys her message in its entirety to the point where you feel like you're there with her. And after reading some of her posts, I realize that I really didn't know her as a person very well. She wasn't the only one wearing a mask, hiding her humanity and playing a role, I was too. And maybe the mask I wore is the exact reason why she wore the one she did. I didn't know how to just be pewep but in the end, she tore that stupid little "rich affiliate" mask I had gorilla glued on my face which had been suffocating me. And at last, I started to breathe. I wish I could help her but I guess I know deep down I never will. I think part of the reason I want to be an adept and grow is to save, heal people like that. Or maybe it's so that in the chess game of life, I can finally look into her wondering eyes and say "checkmate." __________ Sorry for the rant , it's been a long few days.