this is what it feels like to see a ghost you once called home
and i just felt it — the shift in the air, the goosebumps.
the warm summer breeze inexplicably turned cold.
sharp as ice, yet soft as breath.
it stung my skin, leaving unseen bruises.
everything hurt — not just on the outside, but deep inside too.
my heart pounded so loud i could feel it in my mouth.
i was dizzy, like i’d been thrown onto a rollercoaster mid-fall —
it was a dark, starry night,
but it felt like i’d just walked into the brightest room.
and when i finally saw those eyes, i knew why.
everything stopped. time stood still.
it went numb. turned to mush.
ready to jump into his embrace —
to let those strong arms hold me,
to meet those deep brown eyes one last time.
memories — loud and sharp.
the happy ones. the highs and the lows.
the through-thick-and-thins —
until they turned into the sad ones.
the ones i’ve fought to forget.
who wants to remember heartbreak anyway?
in that moment, realization dawned.
the only thing keeping me upright
was the wet, mossy brick wall behind me.
any other day, i would’ve stayed away from it.
today, it was the only thing holding me up.
pulled the hood over it — his hoodie, i might add.
i became small. invisible.
i didn’t want him to see me.
not the pitying smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.
even though i didn’t want it to happen…
a part of me still hoped it would.
it was a nostalgic reminder
of the time i spent my nights in his embrace —
his hands tracing slow circles along my back,
my face buried in the crook of it.
when those soft brown eyes truly searched for mine
across a room full of people.
when that smile was reserved just for me.
when those hands held mine — tight,
a silent promise to never let go.
standing close enough to brush shoulders —
it hit me like a freight train
of every word we left unsaid.
and then i did the only thing i knew —
i couldn’t risk losing anything — everything — twice.
gathered the scattered parts of myself.
and hoped this would be the last time i see him again…
