the ghosts of people i (used to) know (better than myself) come and go, tempting me to reach out and reconnect.
i haven’t spoken to you in quite some time. after periods of hot and cold, on and off, you left and never turned back. always afraid to speak first, i stayed silent. you were gone for a year and a half before coming back to me. only this time, you were in a dream.
you wait for me in the sand as the sun sets. arm raised, you wait for me. you speak softly, remembering how i would jump at the slightest sound, telling me of all the things you’ve done since we last spoke. all your adventures, all your mistakes. you tell me how you miss home. you tell me you’ve missed me, the way things used to be, the friendship we had. you tell me you miss sleep induced emojis and nicknames that had no reasonable explanation. you ask how i’ve been, how long i’ve been clean. you tell me you’re so proud of me, the way you used to. i wake up, and you’re gone, off living those adventures i dreamt you had.
the last time i spoke to you, really spoke to you, i broke your heart. three years pass, and i never looked back. they said you were poison, and i didn’t listen until you filled my veins, taking over my body until i couldn’t tell which thoughts were mine, and which were the ones i (you) (we) created to deny the truth.
i see you occasionally, and i think back to a time where you seemed like everything i wanted. i see you on my feed, in my bookshelf, and in the ringing of my ears. i think about the color green, and mixed cd’s. i think of unexpected cupcakes, and confusion. but mostly, i think about how that night, three years ago, was the best think i could’ve done for either of us. i pieced together jigsaw memories and happenstance updates and realized we (i) never would’ve been happy. not as i am now, not as i collect that you are. i’m sorry i broke your heart, but i’ll never be sorry i left.
it’s been months since i’ve spoken to you, but hardly moments since i’ve spoken about you. the day you left i cried. i cried until i thought i would vomit blood and what remained of my heart. i cried until your name was etched in my cheeks and i couldn’t get the taste of your betrayal off my tongue. i cried until everything went black and i became the person i thought you (we) killed the first time you told me you loved me.
the image of you is etched into the inside of my eyes, appearing in my unguarded dreams. botched memories of a time i thought you loved me floating through my subconscious, threatening to invade more than just my dreams. you too, appeared in my dreams, many times. every dream a different memory, every dream a different mutilation of the battle between my mind and the fragments of my heart. you came to me in dreams of love, in dreams of rage. in dreams of regret, and in dreams of sadness. sometimes, she came with you. sometimes, i was bitter. sometimes you held me in your arms the way i used to beg god to have just one more time. others, you told me you loved me and then made me watch you leave (again). it wasn’t until i watched your back retreat into the fading black of a dream that i realized i don’t need you, and that i never did. you aren’t who i thought you were. and you never will be.
the ghosts of people i know come and go, tempting me to reach out and reconnect. each time, showing me something i never thought i would be content with.
