The Ghost of Christmas Past

So I talked to my dead boyfriend last night. "Yep, she finally went off the deep end." That's what you're all thinking, isn't it? Well, before you call those aforementioned men in little white coats to come and take the crazy girl back to her padded room, just bear with me. This is not really that an unusual an occurrence. It hasn't happened in awhile, but it was not entirely unexpected. (In fact, I sorta had expected to hear from him a couple of weeks ago when his brother Wes died and was really surprised when I didn't, but anyway...) I've mentioned Colin vaguely before. It's a long story, but the bare bones gist is this. I was dating him about 10 years ago, he got shot by car jackers, died, and has been haunting my dreams ever since. I loved him terribly, but it was a long time ago, and while I won't say that I've gotten over with his death, in my own fucked up way I've dealt with it. Since then, Colin has become my conscience. The voice of reason in my sometimes very cluttered head. (As I mentioned in my post last night, Lindy usually has that job by day, out in the real world. Colin gets the honor of hanging out in the scary little corners of my subconscious after dark.) I used to talk to him for any number of reasons. He'd wander into my dreams just to say, "Hi!" He's kept more to himself in recent years. Now I tend to only hear from him when I'm really upset about something or seriously stressed out. There are a multitude of reasons I'm sure he chose to pay me a visit last night. (Hello? Did you read my last post? I needed my head shrunk and I guess it was his turn to do it.) I'm not going to get into what we talked about. The subject matter is irrelevant. What is relevant, is that now here I sit - WAY too fucking early on a Saturday morning, especially when I was up until almost 3 - and by the harsh light of day it should seem crazy to me that the advice of a dead man actually makes sense, but a lot of it does. Maybe he's going to be my docent through this big change I sense coming. That wouldn't be such a bad thing. I know I'm going to need the help and in a very weird way it's sorta apropos for one of my neurotic conjurings to be my tour guide on this next little adventure. There's something almost poetic about it... See, this is what happens when I take a couple of days off from posting. Things start to get really fucking weird around here ;) Everybody have a great weekend! I promise not to spend all of it inside playing EQ...

"To understand the living, you got to commune with the dead." -- John Berendt - "Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil"