This Is A Ghost Story, But Not Your Ordinary Ghost Story

I am haunted.

I am haunted every time I see your name. I am haunted every time I hear your name. I am haunted every time I pass by someone who looks identical to you. I am haunted every time I pass by the places we’ve been to before. I am haunted when I hear the songs you listened to. I am haunted whenever I see some food item you greatly remind me of. I am haunted by the movies and books you told me about. I am haunted at the most random of times. I am haunted by the idea of you alone, and I must admit I am scared.

I do not know what you have done unto me or how you have done it to me, but I must say, it amazes me how you keep doing this to me. Every time I pass the places we’ve been to, I see us there, laughing and smiling, and it haunts me. Every memory we shared, each caress, gaze, and touch, they haunt me. Every moment we were together, each story, laugh, joke, it continues to haunt me to this day. I look away in shame in remembering all of this.

What have I done?

To this fear I have concluded to myself that I push you away, for I do not want to feel this anymore. I do not want to feel anymore. I am scared, that once I tell you everything, once the words from this cowardly mouth come out, I’ll be haunted for the rest of my days. If I am haunted by the act itself, what more to what will happen after I say all of it? I am afraid.

Yet, at the end of the day, I find myself asking the same question, if I am haunted by you, why do I keep on looking for you?

Even if you’re at the other side of the world, I still make my way to you. I find myself walking to where you were, or where you are. And I’d stand there for hours, just wanting to see you again. I find myself tracing back the steps when we were together. I find myself waiting at the bench where we used to meet up. But you don’t show up, and I go home heavy-hearted. I buy the drink we used to buy together at that coffee shop. I watch the movies we used to watch together cuddled up. But I don’t laugh at them anymore. I buy the meal you took out from the restaurant we used to go to. It doesn’t taste the way it used to. I listen to the music you told me about before. And now the lyrics make sense to me.

I find myself longing for you and, I don’t know why, and that scares me.

Every time I look on my phone, scroll back to our messages, with each smiley and each reply, they haunt me. Every time I go online to Facebook and see you online, with that green online button glaring at me, it haunts me. I refuse to press that send button with all those feelings. It haunts me to talk to you. It wasn’t like this before. I don’t know why. I don’t know why. It baffles me. And I hate myself for it. I was and still am such a coward.

Yet what haunts me the most, are the things left unsaid to you. To this day, the idea haunts me. Thoughts of “what if I told him?” and, “what If he knew?” revolve in my head, every time. There is no day that passes that I don’t think about you. Oh how many countless times have I left those messages unsent from my phone. How many times have I thought about it again and again in my head. How I dreamt of you calling me yours. How I wish I could tell you that you were what my dreams are made of. How I wish I could be in your arms, sleeping right beside you. How I wish I told you how much I loved looking right back at your eyes. How I wanted to call you mine.

I am haunted by you, and some part of me wishes that I haunt you too. TC mark

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