Do I believe in ghosts? Perhaps.
I have always considered myself a skeptic. There is little that I take on faith ... and prefer to go with the theory that although anything is possible, show me. Therefore, for me ... the belief in ghosts is tricky. Many years ago I lived in a suburb on the east side of Columbus, Ohio. I worked the night shift in a plastics extrusion factory, packing drinking straws (that's a story in and of itself ... best saved for another time). Anyway ... I was on my way to work late one night ... and was driving along the freeway when I saw her.
Standing in the middle of my lane as I was cruising along doing at least 60 mph ... was the ghostly apparition of a woman in an orange dress. I never even had a chance to swerve, and drove right through her. Instantly I felt my belly tighten as a moment of pure panic took hold of me. Though I studied there rearview mirror with a great deal of trepidation, there was no sign of her. It was as if I had imagined her ... and yet it felt so real.
Several miles further up the freeway, I saw her again! Just like before, she was standing in the middle of my lane ... wearing the same orange dress ... and once again, I never had a chance to alter the course of my vehicle's projected course ... and drove right through her.
I made it to work safely ... but found myself contemplating the ghostly apparition throughout the night. It was only later that I realized the were a number of orange construction barrels along that stretch of highway ... and when combined with a serious lack of sleep that had built up over the entire week ... accounted for a sleep deprivation induced hallucination ... rather than an encounter with a ghost.
There was another time though ... that seemed even more like a ghostly encounter to me. Even now, when I think about it, I find myself wondering if it was just a strange combination of intense emotional overload and an overactive imagination.
It had been less than a week since someone very close to me had died unexpectedly. We had shared an intimate relationship for several years and he was an important part of my life. On the morning of this ... encounter ... I found myself alone, sitting in the front seat of my car as I waited for my oldest son to return.
The driver's side window was down ... and my son had inadvertently left the passenger side door open. It was quite breezy, and I considered reaching over and pulling the door closed, but laziness prevailed and I opted to leave it open.
As I relaxed in the front seat with my eyes closed, waiting for my son to return, the breeze got noticeably stronger. In fact, it got both stronger ... and specific. It was as if the breeze became a gentle but persistent caress. It was as if the breeze that morning was following a predestined course, one that traversed multiple erogenous zones simultaneously. The breeze slid over my body in such a way that it was intensely erotic... stirring multiple nerve endings in at least three erogenous zones. The sensation was so intense that it was nearly orgasmic and left me feeling both breathless and puzzled.
How could a simple spring breeze affect me in such a ... specific way? Then again, I was mired deeply in grief at the time ... which certainly could have affected my perception, right?
One interesting tidbit ... the first thing that brought me into contact with the man I was grieving for was a shared passion for erotica. Not hardcore smut but tastefully done erotica, created by and for adults. Could it have actually been a ghostly encounter then? Perhaps one final, uniquely intimate caress, before he left this world completely ... for his final resting place ... the realm of Shagri-la?
Do I believe in ghosts? Perhaps.