I finally told him I was a time traveller.
That I did not belong to the present or the future but was simply a shadow fleeting between worlds.
He didn't ask how that was possible, and that was fine because it was a question I couldn't answer. Not because it was a secret but because I didn't know.
There was no manual...no cataclysmic event or wizard doling out magical amulets. It wasn't like in the movies. There is no back story or science to explain me.
I simply am.
I wondered...If didn't know the how, would he expect me to know the why?
That would be a shame because once again, I didn't.
Over the years I had managed to piece together a semblance of purpose for myself. Something to hold onto when the desire to be "Normal" threatened to send me to a dark place.
So should he ask, I will tell him that I am the voice in his head.
The one that tells him to wait that extra second before crossing the road. That momentary hesitation before he steps into a strangers car. The hand that will pull him back when death reaches out to greet him too soon. The whisper that says "It is not yet your time, so be still for a while and let tragedy pass by."
But he doesn’t ask me that, so I tell him other things.
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