A Shadow in the Night: When a Fleeting Encounter Becomes an Unexplained Burden

I’m 26, and if you know me, you know I’m not one to lose control. I love the buzz of a night out, the laughter with friends, the clinking of glasses in a lively tavern. I’ve always held my own, always kept a clear head. But a few weeks ago, something inexplicable happened, and now… now I feel like a stranger in my own skin.

 

It was just another night at our usual spot, the air thick with music and chatter. Then he walked in. Tess, I swear, from the moment my eyes landed on him, it was like a jolt. My entire being hummed with an urgency I’d never known. It wasn’t just a glance, it was a visceral pull, a sudden, undeniable wanting that coursed through me, leaving me breathless and… wet. I couldn’t understand it. This raw, primal attraction, consuming me from nowhere.

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He was in a crisp white Polo, radiating an almost arrogant confidence. He moved with purpose, heading straight for me, his gaze unwavering. It was as if he already knew. Knew I’d say yes. He bought me drinks, his voice a low hum against the background noise, easy conversation flowing between us. Then, with a casualness that was unsettling in retrospect, he offered to show me his car. And I went. Without a flicker of hesitation. My mind, usually so sharp, was strangely blank. One moment we were talking, the next… we were in his car, caught in a whirlwind of raw, unspoken desire. A quick, urgent encounter. No names exchanged, no real conversation, just that intense, fleeting connection. And then, he was gone. I never saw him again.

 

But ever since that night… something is profoundly wrong. Two weeks later, the exhaustion began. It wasn’t just typical fatigue; it was a deep, bone-weary drain. And the dreams… Oh, God, the dreams. They’re relentless, vivid replays of that night, over and over. I wake up tangled in my sheets, my body responding as if it were truly happening, sometimes finding myself wet, sometimes even released. It’s terrifying, this physical response to something that’s only in my sleep.

 

But the real horror is how I feel after. Each time I wake from those dreams, I am more depleted than before. It’s like something has siphoned every ounce of energy from me. I can sleep the entire day, and still, this crushing weight presses down on my chest. I feel heavy, utterly drained, as if a part of me has been stolen, leaving only an echoing emptiness in its wake.

 

This isn’t just about exhaustion anymore, Tess. I’ve started losing weight, and the thought of food makes my stomach churn. I used to be so full of life, vibrant and energetic. Now, I’m just perpetually tired, lost in a haze of moodiness, sleeping away my days but never truly resting.

 

I’ve desperately sought answers. I went to prophets, hoping for clarity, but they told me there was nothing. A sangoma, a traditional healer, just looked at me with a solemn gaze and advised me to stop entertaining things I don’t understand. But how do I stop this? I’ve prayed until my voice is hoarse, I’ve cried until there are no more tears. I’ve tried with every fiber of my being to forget that night, to erase it from my memory, but it’s like I’m trapped, bound to this unseen presence that visits me in the dark, taking what it wants, leaving me hollowed out.

 

I haven’t been with any other guy since. The thought of it… it just doesn’t register. I don’t get turned on anymore. I don’t feel anything. It’s as if that quick, reckless moment in his car didn’t just take my energy, but it stole my very essence, leaving me with a curse I don’t know how to break.

 

Please, I’m desperate for help. If there’s anyone out there who has ever experienced anything remotely like this, or anyone who understands what I’m going through, I beg of you, please advise me. I’m not okay. I truly believed it was just a fun, fleeting night. But now, now I fear I opened a door to something far, far darker than I could have ever imagined.