- the conjuring.
without you
i’m not
quite sure
who the fuck
i’m supposed
to be.
- dependent.
in all
the history
of the world
no one has ever
been able to
teach others
how to fill the hole
a dead parent
leaves.
- impossibilities.
i cannot fight my way through these fucking shadows on my own.
- no light, no sun.
i only
find myself
kissing boys
who love
to make
monsters
out of
girls.
- a guide on how to self-destruct.
my lovers know i’m bad luck. when they sneak back home, they throw sea salt over their shoulders with one hand as they call their girlfriends with the other. they say, oh honey, i lost track of time. they say, oh sweetheart, i missed you so much. they say, oh beautiful, don’t worry about her. she’s no one. she’s nothing at all.
- they were right.
tell me
you love me
even if
you have to
cross your fingers
behind your back
while you
do it.
- i don’t mind being lied to, baby.
there
was not
a single kiss
from my
lips
that was
not laced
with
devastation.
- my lovers in reverse.
i always believed that if i was able to make them stay, they would make me forget every bad thing that ever happened to me. they always told me that they would rescue me from myself & i was foolish enough to believe them.
- bittersweet.
i keep searching for a mother in every woman i meet, but if i’m being honest, i wouldn’t even begin to know what it is i’m supposed to be looking for.
- which parts make up a mother?
they said to me,
you can’t be angry at your mother. you can’t be angry at your sick mother. you can’t be angry at your dead mother. you can’t be angry.
i wanted to take the floor & scream,
my trauma doesn’t get wiped away just because it’s inconvenient for you to love someone who was also capable of causing others pain.
- hard feelings.
your
comfort
is not
more
important
than
my journey
to
healing.
- i will never live a life of quiet again.
i
remember
hearing
somewhere
that
once
you’ve heard
your
mother’s
voice,
you’re
never (ever)
able
to forget it
again.
i’ve
already
started
forgetting
yours.
- i don’t want to think about what’s next.
people keep asking me if i love you or hate you. the answer has never been as simple as yes or no. of course i love you, but i hate so much of what you did.
- tug of war.
my therapist believes in ghosts & she thinks you might be haunting me. she tells me to wait until the house is completely empty. she tells me to light a candle. she tells me to wish you well but wish you gone. i don’t tell her this, but i light no candle. i cast no protective circle. instead, i walk around the house in a towel screaming,
why won’t you go?
you can’t hold me back.
i’m allowed to move on.
you can’t live through me.
let me be happy for once.
leave.
leave.
leave.
- the cleansing.
how do you keep on living after the worst imaginable thing happens to you? there is no easy answer—no steps 1, 2, & 3. i just remember waking up one day & deciding that i would try to remember that even though rainstorms are completely unavoidable, sun-showers exist, too. whenever it feels like your world is crashing down all around you, the sun will always be there to warm you between the wrath of the storm.
- sun-showers.
i realize now
you were
never
haunting
me.
- you were just keeping me company.
you carried
your demons
& you tried
your best to
shoulder
mine, too.
yours were
just
too heavy
a burden
to take on
the load.
- with age comes wisdom.
grief is a funny thing. for years, it made me forget that fairy tales existed. then one day, i remembered. just like that, everything was enchanted mirrors & talking clocks again. from then on, i simply couldn’t get my fill of them; it was as if i was learning to read all over again. books became magick in my hands—the same magick you always told me i had. you were right all along: some things don’t come alive until we believe in them with our whole hearts.
- never will i forget again.
eventually,
the rain just
sounds like
rain—
like
getting comfy
with a
good book
beneath
a pile of cats
while holding
a cup of coffee.
none of it is sad.
not once do i
picture you
beside me.
i’m alone,
& for the first time,
i’m okay with
being alone.
- because you’re never truly alone with a book.
i don’t necessarily think you should have to forgive those who have mistreated you in the most life-defining ways. forgiveness is something sacred. however, i would like to think i could forgive you, if given the opportunity. i would like to think you would give me reason to.
- here’s hoping.
i can
no longer
focus on
everything
i’ve lost.
no matter
how many times
i hit replay,
i can’t change
anything.
i vow to focus
on whatever else
the universe
has in store
for me.
- my six of cups reversed.
to
underestimate
women
is bad enough
by itself,
but
i imagine
anyone
who does
must not know
many sisters.
- together, we are strong as hell.
we are exactly the same & yet somehow exactly different. i am the introvert to your extrovert. we both love ketchup on everything we eat. i hate to cry in front of people, whereas you cry tears of fearlessness
. we have the same favorite band. whenever one of us feels compelled to crumble, the other distracts the rest of the world while she slowly rebuilds, stone by heavy stone.
-this has always been the secret to our survival.
we
have
the same
numb toe.
we
have
the same
lump on our heads.
we
have
the same
roaring laugh.
we
even
have
the same
hard-to-swallow
memories.
- how could i not love you?
when i think
of my life
without a sister,
i suddenly
understand
what they mean
when they say
people can die
from broken
hearts.
- the worst tragedy of all.
the only way i found relief in this grieving was to plant gravestones everywhere my feet treaded. the first time they leaned in to kiss me, i hesitated. they were far too perfect—far too alive—to become a haunted, hunted thing like i was.
- selfishly, i kissed them anyway.
my gods,
you shine
so brightly
i can’t even
look at you
straight
on.
- striking.
“give me space to heal,”
i asked of them.
- the courage i never felt before.
“you don’t even need to ask,”
they replied.
- the respect i’d never been shown.
they do not pretend to deserve me; better yet, they do not even pretend that they can save me. they do not view me as a broken, feathered thing they can mend up if they scoop me into their hands & show me enough attention. in time, they know that i will stretch across the skies again, but not before i’m ready.
- not before i mend my own wing.
for the first time, i will allow myself to believe that the best can & will happen to me, instead of the worst.
- life doesn’t have to be a horror show.
they proved
to me
that sometimes—
just sometimes—
people do not
leave.
- my reliable forever.
no one
has to
understand
what we are
as long as
we do.
- we’re the only thing that matters.
i would carve silly faces
into pumpkins
with you.
- how i say “i love you.”
i would drink
all the bad coffee
with you.
- how i say “i love you” II.
&
i don’t think
i would mind
spending
the rest
of our lives
sitting
on the floor,
eating
crappy pizza
on top of
moving boxes
we
never
end up
unpacking.
- because i would have you.
they all
want to
know why
i call you
my sun-heart.
- it’s because you cast a shadow nowhere.
in this story, they do not leave even though things are difficult at times. they are gentler with my heart than any who came before them & any who would dare to come after in the next life. if you want to know what kind of person they are, i should tell you that the first time they took me to the water, we spent the entire time rescuing ladybugs from being pulled out with the current.
- you left me in life-saving hands.
i unlearn
the idea
that
it’s normal
to fear
the drive
home
when
they’re
the one
i’m driving
home to
at the end
of the
day.
- no small feat.
i thought
no one
could know me
without
knowing where
i got my love
for coffee creamer
or halloween,
but they’re
doing just
fine.
- i’ve always been whole on my own.
despite her fears, my sister asks me to read her cards. the first thing she asks them is if you regret what you did to us & the card practically flies out. this time, i don’t even bother looking up the meaning; no book could possibly understand. it’s the definition of defeat. it’s regret. it’s guilt. it’s wishing that you could have fixed what happened while you were still alive to do it. it’s knowing that you’ll never be able to. it’s everything we wanted to hear & somehow— somehow, it’s enough & not enough all at the same time.
- our five of swords.
i have my own white kitchen table now. it’s not little; it’s the size of an entire lifetime left to live. it’s never a place of fear, judgment, or silencing. at this table, i’ve shared coffee & quiet truths with my love. at this table, i’ve shared meals & laughter with friends & family. at this table, i have imagined stories with princesses who save themselves, witches who never burn, & mermaids who remember their voices. no matter what happens, i will never allow my kitchen table to be anything but a place where love & healing thrives.
- the letter i cannot send.
i picked up my entire life & moved into a small apartment by the very stretch of sea you wanted to be your last resting place. i’m not sure why i did it. part of it felt like this was the place i was meant to call my home, & part of it felt like it was the only place i could find you again, like the good doctor who went to find the ghost of his wife in small mountain town, colorado.
i tried to turn my life into fiction & i was surprised when it didn’t work. i never found you here—i found your ghost, but not you. at least i can say it was a learning experience. i learned that i never should have built the rest of my life around the idea what could have been.
you were never the point to my story. i am.
as i write this, i’m once again surrounded by moving boxes. i didn’t want to leave, but i have to. the universe has made its decision without me & it has let me know that this town was never meant for you nor me. in just a few weeks, i’m moving to another town completely unmarked by you or the plans you had for me.
i’m buying my first house & you’ll never get to see it, just like you never got to see me graduate from college or meet the love of my life or be there for my wedding. it hurt—all of it—but somehow, i survived it all. i know i can survive the rest, too, since i’ve done it so many times already.
i’m not helpless.
truth is, i never was.
in the winter when all the trees are bare, i can see the ocean from the front door i call my own now. i search for you out of habit, but i don’t see a sign of you anywhere. the cold doesn’t feel so cold anymore. it’s then i accept that i was always meant to do this on my own.
- the letter i cannot send II.
you may or may not know this, but i had an october wedding. i wore a dress in your favorite color (red) & a f
lower crown in the most beautiful autumn colors. things have gotten much better in the years since you’ve been gone, but most days, i do not feel even a fraction beautiful. that day, i felt nothing short of a goddess.
looking back, it feels more like a lucid dream than a memory. something ethereal, unearthly. just out of touch.
it sounds old-fashioned, but i let dad give me away. it felt less like an exchange of property & more a moment of, “here she is. she has been through so very much in the little bit of life she has lived so far. i’m the only parent she has left, & i’m trusting you not to give her more pain than she is able to take. no—she is not breakable, but she is human, after all.”
despite everything, i have always experienced moments in which i wished you were there beside me to experience it. that day, i didn’t have to wish for that. i felt you everywhere. in every cold breeze, in the light between the treetops.
everywhere, i felt an apology for your absence.
even after our angry goodbye, i knew you never left. you just went into hiding. if you’re staying because you feel guilty you’re missing out on my life, then please let me put your mind to rest: the road to forgiveness may be a long, uneven one that has no true ending, but that doesn’t lessen my love for you or my desire to finally see you at peace.
there’s no reason for you to be afraid anymore. as frightening as the unknown can be, remember that wherever you may be going next, you will still remain in every facet of my life. we have plenty of time to drink coffee & catch up later.
this is my lit candle.
this is my protective circle.
To Drink Coffee With a Ghost Page 2
