I consider this phenomenon like a confession, just without a priest.
I think I just have one of those faces. People always want to tell me things. Secret things, deep things, painful things. Secrets that have been on their minds and hearts for far too long.
“My baby... I haven’t seen my baby since he was two years old. When her daddy left me and took her with him. I don’t know where they went, I worry for her so much. I kept hoping they’d come back, but they never did. I keep hoping that I’ll see her, but how will I even recognize her?”
I listen though. To everything they want to tell me, every detail, no matter how dark, every hiccup and every sob. Some people are like a river, their hopes and secrets come rushing out, from others, secrets drip out slowly, like a melting icicle under winter’s sun. I consider this phenomenon like a confession, just without a priest.
People such as these, I don’t think they know why they want to talk to me. They don’t even know me. But when they get desperate, when they need something so much it hurts, they always find me. In the park, in a bar, on a bus, the doctor’s office, anywhere.
If I am there, they find me. They never lie, not even to themselves.
“I spent all our money, all our savings, my son’s college fund, even the money we hid for hard times. All gone. My husband’s going to notice any day now. I want to make it right, how can I make it right?”
Oh, don’t mistake me. They know what they’re doing. The deal they’re making. I’m not a fixer, nothing like that, but I do offer an ear, and a solution for their problems. And I give them their deepest desires.
“I should’ve taken her phone call, why didn’t I take her phone call?”
Sometimes, it’s simple. A wrong person at the wrong time. A car that runs a red light.
“I wish my parents would just disappear.”
Sometimes, the problems require a bit more skill.
“If I could go back and do it all over again…”
In the end though, they all get the peace they’re really looking for with me. As can you.
So tell me, what is it that you most desire?
All it costs you is your soul.