She gasped. “What?”
“Yes, please don’t worry. I’m not here to hurt you.”
“That’s not possible,” she cried out, “to be in my mind.”
“Maybe it is. Maybe somebody out there can help you.”
“No. There’s no help for me.”
“I know what happened.”
There was a stillness inside her.
“Your daughter. She was killed in a terrible accident.”
Immediately Pamela started to bawl.
“I hear you, Pamela. And I understand. You were riding your bike, and you feel responsible.”
“How can you know this?” she whispered in horror.
He took a slow deep breath. “It doesn’t matter. I just want you to know that somebody out here can hear you, and that, when you’re crying out, somebody is listening.”
“That doesn’t make it any better. My pain is private.”
“Sometimes your pain isn’t private. If you want it to be private, you have to change the way you’re screaming out to the universe.”
She stilled again.
And he realized just how absolutely stupid that sounded. “I get it. You weren’t thinking. You’re just reacting. And that pain that just won’t go away lives deep down inside you, in your heart. I also get that. I’m just trying to tell you that, if you want to be alone, you need to change the way you scream and cry because there is a way to reach out, without having other people hear. And, if you do want to reach out and not be so alone, just know that you aren’t alone, that someone is listening.”
“This is bizarre,” she whispered.
“I know, and I’m not really fond of it myself,” he agreed, with a note of humor. “I also can’t connect with everybody, and I can’t answer all your questions because that’s just not how it works. I don’t have the answers,” he said flatly.
She half laughed. “If you’re a psychic, why are you talking to me in my head? You realize that everybody will think I’m mental?”
“Who is everyone?”
She quieted.
“Are you okay?” he asked suddenly.
“Maybe, maybe not.”
“Meaning?”
“I don’t know. I can’t trust myself. Everybody says I can’t trust myself.”
“Who is everybody?”
“My family, my husband.”
“Because of your grief?”
“Yes,” she said softly. “Apparently it’s not normal to grieve for this long.”
“I think it’s very normal,” he argued quietly. “Nobody can give you instructions on how long it takes to become accustomed to the loss of somebody you cared about, and, in your case, you’re adding guilt to the mix. So that becomes even harder to let go of.”