Ghost

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I am grasping at a ghost in hopes to feel your skin. I talk to you as if you could talk back, but I don’t dare pick up the phone. We are done. I accepted that, but I miss you!

I know that I have to let you go, but your hauntings feel so comforting. Our goodbye was not satisfying. The door did not close on your way out. You beckoned me to breeze back in at any moment that pleases you, but I’m not a pleasure cruise.  I still miss you whispering in my ear “missy!” Low and sensual like I did something bad. You always knew how to take command of my attention. You still do it even though you are gone!

And then, there are about a thousand things a day that I lean over to tell you, but it’s like hugging the wind. I wanted to get excited about the new season of Stranger Things. Make popcorn and cozy up in your arms, so you could cover my eyes during the scary parts. We talked so much about the Upside Down. You turned my life upside down, flipped it. Now, I cannot even watch the fourth season because I am afraid it will hurt too good. 

When I had a bad date, I wanted to run to you. Knock on your door; tell you how bad the date was and that you were so much better than him. Tell you I’m sorry that I vilified you because there are worse men out there, but I didn’t run. I only wanted to. You see, I had to remind myself just because there are worse men does not mean we were good together, that I still deserve better, that I still deserve all of a man and not just a ghost of one. 

So, one finger, two, I let you go. I release you. Three, four, and every time I find my hand groping for yours in the middle of the night, I will remember to give myself some grace, and let you go again. Just the pinky now, Goodbye my love.

By Hyacinth Hale 

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