The Cruelest Ghost

 

I cried about you today.

I was just sitting here, waiting for inspiration to conjure up words, when I thought of you.

And I spontaneously burst into tears.

Loud, broken sobs from a cracked heart.

Why do you still haunt me?

I’ve been trying so hard to move on.

I’m not broken anymore, but memories of you still bring me to my knees.

I’m my own person, I’m rolling along, no need for anyone to complete me, but my heart still misses you.

I don’t understand.

What did you do to me?

I was in bed with a naked man who adores me, someone ready and willing to do anything to have and keep me.

As I traced patterns onto his back, I focused on the tattoo of a compass he has on his shoulder.

It reminded me of the compass tattoo you have on your chest.

The one I never got to trace.

I realized that the one I wanted wasn’t the one who was in bed with me.

The one I wanted was and always has been you.

And today, for no reason at all, I love you horribly.

You are a unicorn in my world, someone who only I believe exists.

I keep waiting for the day when I won’t miss you as much.

Or for someone to come along that makes me forget about you.

I wish I could compartmentalize as well as you do.

How you can pretend we didn’t happen and go about your routine like before.

Except, you were drowning then.

You let me see the parts of you that no one else saw.

We would have been messy and complicated.

There would have been bloodshed and causalities.

I would have still loved you, even through that.

My soul aches when I talk about you, which I rarely do anymore.

Yet here you are, having somehow wormed your way into my foremost thoughts, once again.

You are the cruelest of ghosts.

One that is felt but never seen.