Ghost of a Man

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
What does a man do when he is nothing but fading memories?

Submitted: March 26, 2013

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Submitted: March 26, 2013

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I walk the roads by night. Never sleeping, yet ever dreaming. I walk the roads by day. Constantly run into, but never noticed. It goes on and on; this life. Everyday I long for death and contentment and everyday I am denied that which I most desire. These two things are not one in the same. Two different desires, that I am denied both equally is the heartbreak. For if I had one of those desires manifested in my so called “life”, then it would be a sweet release of the agony that is built up within my wailing soul.

 

I see her face every day. She is never alone now; always with someone. I wish I could be with someone. A friend or relative perhaps. I will never be that lucky again. I miss her so much. She has no idea that I watch her like I do and wish from the deepest parts of my soul to be with her again. It’s like she doesn’t even know I exist anymore. I suppose she doesn’t or doesn’t want to admit it. Either way: another dreadful pain to live with during my days and nights.

 

She is with her boyfriend today. She looks happy. That is all I eve wanted for her: happiness. Such a vague word for such an intense emotion. The word doesn’t do the emotion justice in what it depicts in one’s mind. She is content with life it seems. Something that I see on her face everyday is the smile that lets burst forth from her very soul. She lights up the darkest of my days and yet she has no clue she still does that for me. She focuses her attention and care on the guy she loops arms with today and the nest day and the day before today.

 

Anger wells up inside of me, slowly taking over the sadness and depression that follows me. This emotion isn’t new to me and it happens every time I see her. I am jealous it seems. I was not aware for the longest time that emotion was even possible for someone in my situation. Yet it is. Still a horrible feeling, even now. I am content with straying behind her and her boyfriend. Following them everywhere they go. To the mall, the park, and back home to the bed. That is when my jealousy takes over the most. Never do I reach out and try to talk to her or stop her or confess my feelings for her. That they are the same as they once were when she still knew me for who I was.

 

Today will be different though. I will stop her, I will communicate. I wait for her as I do everyday outside of her apartment, across the street, in the cafe. I sit at the table that was our favorite and still people sit with me even though I am a man of few words now. I wait patiently. She finally comes out and I start following her like any normal day and this is my destined routine. I walk a bit faster today though. She is alone now, I assume heading to work. I want to catch her before she gets to work so I can tell her how I feel.

 

I walk up behind her and can smell her lavender scent. It is just as strong as the day we first met and I fall into a distant memory of times long ago. I rouse my slumbering passion and become confident in what I must do. I reach out to grab her by the shoulder. I go to grab her sternly yet gently. I raise my hand and pull it down. She stops. I attempt to stop but I trip forward. I shut my eyes tight, afraid that I will run into her and this entire plan was for naught.

 

I feel no bump, no force. No shouts of anger. I open my eyes wide in shock and turn around. She is still standing where I left her but a few seconds ago. I look down at my hands and they are slowly reappearing. I am but a shell of the man I once was. I am no longer here on this earth, yet I am doomed to walk it for eternity. I am neither here nor there and I am forgotten. I am but a memory in her mind. I am but a ghostly wind that flows through her hair at night and a chill that makes her recoil during the day. I am a ghost of the man I once was.


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