Is it something in my eyes as to why you have found yourself telling me your secrets?
We are strangers and we’ve only just met but yet you’ve told me every dark secret that is weighing you down.
Is there something about my presence that makes you stop me in the street or even as I check my letterbox that inspires you to spill your guts on the deepest of traumas you have suffered
Are you looking to me for answers?
And what was it that you saw in me as a 12 year old girl when you decided Id become the keeper of all your secrets, to place your trust in me with the tales of your pain that resides deep inside of you, was it easier to talk to a child rather than another adult?
Was it by chance we met or is it easier to confide in a stranger
or was it fate , did the universe gravitate us together so you could talk about your pain and unload the burden,
Surely you find this odd too, telling a stranger intimate detail of your past, sometimes you shake anxiously but you don’t stop talking, how do you feel when you walk away from that experience? Do you send me love and say thank you?
Is it me? Do I draw you in? am I the vessel to transmute what you’re laying down on me? And if so, why was I never given an instruction manual for this job, a job I unwillingly found myself in.
Why was I your story holder, in those moments of my own disappear hearing the burden of yours?
And we aren’t always strangers are we, you and I are often friends until those moments where you’ve told me to much, its like you become fearful of me and I’m not sure if it’s the guilt that resides in your story, but suddenly you decide we can’t be friends anymore and you’ll vanish from my life and Ill carry your stories in the memories of our friendship ending.
What is it about me that prompts you to speak your truth and why do the words flow out of your mouth continuously without barely taking a breath of air?
Why are you unable to withdrawal from showing me your darkness, do you even think of walking away?
Are you not worried I can see straight through you being a keeper of stories and all, does this not ring alarm bells that this woman you can confide in can see through your bullshit , because you know she’s seen and heard it all before, why are you not more careful in what you say to me , because its not always stories you tell me, you also subtly show me the ways you can hurt me and I often think what part of you thinks you can fuck with me that easily, it’s very confusing…….. and sometimes you whisper in my ear calling me a “fucking bitch” when you realise I’ve seen your game, your fraudulent behaviours before you frolic off with the tirade of followers you’ve accumulated to gain power over and feed validation to yourself that your of high importance before you begin efforts to crush them one by one and here, I stay silent in your charming and alluring phase ,as I watch your game unfold there’s no point in speaking up you usually have everybody fooled but Ill be there listening when they come a few months later upset at the destruction you’ve caused.
It can be terribly isolating at times, being your story keeper, sometimes you develop hate for me or become confused by me because your spouse’s confide in me, they me their secrets, secrets they’ve barely confided in you with, it makes you look sideways at me but I swear I didn’t ask for any of this.
At times it can be terribly lonely, you know in those times you message me after a long time of not speaking, times I may be suffering myself but you tend not to ask how I am, you have deep hurt or a simply a frustrating day and you just feel like venting away and sometimes these land at times I have a knife to my throat ready to die, so please ask me how I am and genuinely care before you unload your problems onto me.
And some of you are telling me your empaths…but I notice without empathy, this one is one of the funniest and ironic contrast I see in the stories you’re telling me, “I am an EMPATH” you proclaim in a self-advertising bragging statement, you continue to speak all about yourself and proceed too drop a tonne of emotional shit upon thy shoulders sometimes you quickly ask how I am before proceeding , you are unable to notice the life you are sucking out of me nor do you notice my eyes glazing over as I float away into my own peace while I giggle and play with my imagination internally rolling my eyes at your “empathic” abilities.
I’ve learnt how not to absorb your stories anymore by the way, I just hold space and I have no interested in trying to save you, so if you tell me your stories without permission and I don’t respond emotionally to you just know that its because I’m just a keeper of stories and ridiculously patient, sometimes you might see me smiling as your story as your words of pain roll off your tongue, I’m not smiling because I find anything funny , I am reaching into my own peace and reflecting my peace into your eyes to give you a glimpse of light and the powerful knowing that peace exists and if you are planning on hurting me , don’t worry I already know so don’t worry you wont get into my head, ill just be there reflecting silently reflecting your energy back onto you, while you speak your self-serving prophecies.
So dear readers, if you find yourself with a need to share the hurt you are going through, please be kind and ask your chosen listener whether this be a stranger , friend or acquaintance ask them if it is ok for you to share with them your pain, please watch out for those people you often go to for advice or to vent, story holders are often see as strong people but a lot of the time we are people who have suffered immensely this is why you are drawn to us, because you trust in us, we hold the energy of knowing and of strength, our own burdens of pain so deep we would never want to put this burden on anyone else or cause pain intentionally all we want is to provide peace and be in peace ourselves , we don’t mind listening and helping you but for our own protection we need care too, we need balanced exchanges so we don’t whither away, please don’t speak at us , please speak with us.