There is always someone who is the most memorable to you from your past, but seems more like a ghost standing in front of you now, in the present. The past few days, I’ve kept finding little things that remind me of that someone for me—like an uncannily timed trail of bread crumbs, leading me back to the place we used to be. I wouldn’t have even thought to write anything about it, but it’s like these traces keep turning up every day in little ways. So I’m beginning to think that maybe I’m supposed to write about it.
I see my someone now, but it’s not the same as it used to be. They played a different part in my life then. We talked every day. They made me smile, and think about my future, and the kind of person I was, and wanted to be.
It was my fault that everything changed. It was me that turned them into a ghost in my very own life. I didn’t feel the same anymore. And I knew that it wasn’t fair. So I let them go.
I found a note today, this little list of things that we came up with, and so many feelings came rushing back. it made me re-think everything. I began to think that I was wrong for doing this to them; for doing this to myself.
But then I realized this: even the best memories are meant to stay in the past. Because that’s where they belong. It can be the sweetest of memories, the one that fills your head with sunshine, and feels like warmth against your skin. But that doesn’t mean things should go back to how they were. That doesn’t mean things would be the same now. And that’s okay.
You can’t bring back what’s gone.
And it’s sad, but magnificent.
Not all hauntings are somber, or spooky. Some are beautiful.
And that’s okay.