dancing through our house, with the ghost of you

Ghost of You (Revised and Hopefully Better)

His thoughts always happened to wander back to those same questions over and over. Could he have done something? helped her? How didn't he notice just how much she was hurting? And how long had it been going on? The love of his life was gone forever, and it was all his fault. His head would often take him to that one afternoon five months ago. It was the day he realized; the day it was too late.

She had always seemed so happy around him - covering up her sadness to spare his feelings, he guessed. He wished she hadn't. He could've never imagined this happening to him. Hearing about it from other people was one thing, but experiencing it first-hand was something different altogether. It wasn't how he imagined his life going.

He remembered after the incident finding a shirt she had of her favorite band. It's what she wore when she ran away from the prison that was her parents house. It had been years and countless times telling her to get out of there, and finally, she listened.

When she appeared at his doorstep, soaked from the rain and her own tears, he pulled her to his chest and just sat down there. They stayed in that spot for hours, talking and healing. The fear she felt was greater than ever, wondering how long it would take her parents to drag her back. She was terrified, but she was home.

And her parents never came looking for her. It showed how much they really cared about her, she supposed. She couldn't be upset though, not when she was the one who abandoned them. Though after becoming accustomed to a new house - his house - and a new life, she felt more free than she had in her entire life. She seemed happier, unafraid of what the world threw at her next. At least that's how it seemed to him.

He must've been ignorant for not seeing the darkness she continued to face. The guilt she held deep in her heart. He was much too blinded by love to imagine the bad thoughts that looped through her head day after day. Life kept going on that way until that day when she decided to do something about it. The desire to have some semblance of control in her life overwhelmed her to the point of her demise.

There was one evening in particular he would in a special spot in his mind forever. Dinner (boxed pasta and canned tomato sauce, considering that was the extent of their cooking knowledge) was being cooked in the kitchen as a playlist of all their favorite songs softly flowed through the speakers standing on top of the cabinets. A pan sat boiling over a fire on the stove in preparation for the uncooked noodles to be poured in.

The couple was aware of the water beginning to bubble over the side of the pan, but they couldn't be bothered when they held each other in their arms. The light blue walls of the kitchen made the moment feel all the more intimate. They danced together as a slow song came on and moved in sync with the music, completely oblivious to the world outside of their special place.

Neither of them were especially good dancers but they enjoyed their time nonetheless. They continued their careful steps to the music, in a moment just for them. That was until they heard water spilling over the edge of the pan and hurried towards the source of the noise. After some mild panic and chaos, the mess was cleaned up and they laughed about it over their bowls of soggy pasta at the dining room table.

But that was months ago, and now here he was, standing in that very kitchen, picturing the scene unfolding before him with a broken heart and tears in his eyes. His vision became blurry but he couldn't let himself cry. He didn't deserve to. He should have realized something was wrong. It was his fault. Yet deep down he knew that she would want him to reflect on the good times instead of thinking of all that could've been done. Maybe someday he would forgive himself and be able to do just that, but for now he was showered in the guilt of his lost love.

And with those thoughts running through his mind, he danced around his house, alone, but feeing her presence guiding him through it. He was with the love of his life, and her ghost would always be willing to dance.