I still see you sometimes, when I am floating in the liminal waters between sleep and dreams. Even as I set forth purposefully to banish you from my mind, what you were and what you are has become intertwined with who I am that I cannot escape the finality of it. It is not an influence direct, but instead a subtle awareness, barely perceived and often unrecognizable to that I only notice it here, in this suffocating solitude to where stillness flows.
For one earth shattering moment we locked hearts and minds. We were radiant baby, surpassing the promise of any history equally matched, and I fell into you so deeply that resurfaced with parts of my soul I never knew I was missing, hidden within your depths. We rode this exulted state off into the sunsets of tomorrow, forever going forward with mended minds and trembling hands. Even as embers of a ghost burn holes in fading memories and images dissolve through time, I can still conjure the heat you left in me. I can still feel the burn, and the ache has not subsided all these years. Something in you ignites poetry in me, and a sad unending longing for a kiss that will never come.
Every time I thought of you added to the days which never came, and now those days seem infinite in number. I feel weary sometimes, that there are things that never cease to haunt, that you are an unquenchable desire for, and mourning of, possibility. Of all the lessons of loss I learned in your wake, the parting was the richest of sorrows. You come to me in thoughts and words with alien thunder, whispering from behind me of moments seized and forgotten or minutes given away. Your voice brings me back to a place where I am falling and as tears escape their gilded cages for that moment I relive each choice. Soon stillness over takes me and I resolve not to exist as I have created, I try to recapture the moment of seizure and reclaim my unfettered passion. I turn to embrace you with a force of reckoning, unleashed desire and aching need, but again there is only the empty cold of memory behind me.
They say you are pointless, that it is better to forget you. Better they say to move forward and without you, lest carrying the burden of hindsight cripple the most resolute of spirits. I try in my strongest moments to let go but even then you never hover far away. Close enough to feel my heart leaking out and into you, draining me into the shell that becomes of us who acknowledge greatness unfulfilled. Close enough to be carried through dreams and back into the waking now. Close enough to never be forgotten nor ever truly left behind.
I cannot escape that which is part of my story. I will not delude myself to the notion that I can with time wipe you away. I will never know what you offered, I will never feel you come into me fully and fill me with the ecstasy of a new moment seized. I shall never feel us become one, erasing the distance and the time between calling, for you are distance itself, the horizon behind me and all the paths not explored.
I am in love with a ghost whose existence is solely to stir my passions with loss. It is the secret hope of resurrection that hooks my heart firm. For that one day you will return and reopen a door once passed by; that you will ravage me so completely in your benevolence that my hidden heart shall become a vessel of contentment. A lighter thing of dappled sunlight and sweeter summers. Perhaps sleep will come more easily then.