Six months ago, I let a stranger in my door.
I’m certain I’d never seen him before.
We talked for an hour or more, and I did most of the talking.
It wasn’t lust, but he wasn’t a bore:
We never touched, kissed, or even shared a penetrating gaze,
So when he said “I have to go” I walked him to the door.
We talked a few times on Snapchat, he sprinkled a few romantic words about, but we’ve never spoken on the phone or even been in proximity again.
It’s 6 months later, and your should see my floor.
The carpet is dirty and un-vacuumed, and you should see the rest of the place! Talk about litter and garbage EVERYWHERE!!
Mounds of clean folded clothes lie piled at the foot of my bed and I’ve been sleeping on my mattress pad for a week.
Why has my world been shorn?
I don’t know!
I only know this phantasm (turns out his entire identity is a lie; a mystery) completely “ghosted”’ me months ago.
Yet he’s read every poem I’ve ever written, created bots to like them every day, and watched every snap I’ve ever posted.
The truth? I‘ve been gutted to my core, and I’M the one who’s spun with a dropping floor!
I’ve written poem after poem after poem describing how I felt manipulated, betrayed, alone, and ignored (a full volume on its own)…
Confused and twisted into a human pretzel (that’s a “meta-phor”).
Apparently I didn’t take well to being ignored (though I always got over it before).
He wasn’t down for me, so why was I so torn?
Because, somewhere along the line, I fell in love with my puppeteer, my betrayer, my absent and unavailable “invisible” friend who knew all my secrets.
Dear God, how I’ve longed (SO long) for him to resurface at my door!!
Every hour of every night and every day.
I finally realized (it took 6 months) he wasn’t coming back.
The dawning took an age, and I wondered if it was ALL folk lore!
I was temporarily committed to a loony bit and placed on anti-psychotics (which MADE me psychotic!).
Reality had to win in the end,
So, I don’t wait anymore.
Still, my soul is halved at its core,
Because I love him more and more,
And so sure he loves me, too.
Has anyone else ever lost it over a Ghost?
If so, can you recommend a lousy exorcist?

One thought on “LOVING A GHOST

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