Love Personified (Troyler One-Shot Collection)

༜Ghost༜

Ghost: The discarnate soul of a deceased human being still occupying the physical realm. These spirits may or may not know that they are dead. They can also be called forth.

Troye POV

It's not that he was always a ghost.

Then again, I guess that that was the point.  In order for him to become a ghost, he would've had to have been alive first.  He would've had to have been physically present, able to occupy the space beside me, and just be this tangible, touchable thing, that existed so beautifully and so wonderfully and so evocatively that no one would've ever been able to ignore him.  He would've had to have been this dependable source of life, able to provide comfort and solace when it was needed, and capable of igniting even the tiniest sliver of hope, even when you thought it was impossible.  He would've had to have been here, wholly and utterly here, in a way that made you take his constant presence for granted.

Ironically enough, I'd never believed myself to be one of the ones that would ever overlook him.

But then again, I'd never expected him to be here one day and gone the next, leaving behind a mere whisper of himself that I had no choice but to grasp onto like a lifeline, as if I'd drown if I didn't have him to hold on to.

But I suppose that's what happens when you grow so accustomed to something that you forget to properly appreciate it every once in a while: the idea of it ever being gone seems so alien and so foreign to you that the possibility of it leaving never even occurs to you, letting you foolishly believe that you can have faith in the safety of routine. 

But of course, for this feeling of thoughtless monotony to be formed, you have to become acquainted with this form of consolation first.  This could be a certain pattern, object, food, or feeling.  Anything, really.

In my case, it happened to be a person; one in particular, actually.

His name was Tyler.

In all the time I'd known him, I never would've been able to mistake him for anyone else.  It was impossible to, really, when you were as full of life as Tyler Oakley: so vibrant, always eager to have a good time, and easy to trust when you needed something - anything.

I knew this.  Hell, that was why I was drawn to him in the first place.  He was just so approachable, loving to everyone and loved by all, intimidating in a way that didn't seem to pose a threat on anyone.  You could walk right up to him and initiate a conversation, and he'd have no trouble carrying it along, making the effort to put you at ease if you were nervous - yet still able to be serious, if the situation called for it. 

My point is, I'd had no trouble in letting him pull me in, unresisting to the gravitational tug he seemed to have on me. I thought I was on the receiving end of things, having been about to earn what would probably be one of the most important friendships of my life.  After all, where else could things be heading? Tyler was an amazing guy, being the epitome of everything I strived to become as a person; it just didn't seem possible that anyone I'd admired so much could ever become a cruel reminder of what could've been.

As it turned out, I wasn't being merely attracted towards him, so much as getting wrenched into a new region that was far more than I'd bargained for. The prospect of his friendship had been dangled in front of me, effortlessly within reach, but I'd made the mistake of discrediting any and all strings attached. So, I'd went ahead and taken my chances, deciding to go for the prize - only to be hooked onto, yanked viciously out of familiar territory, and brought into a world where I'd forgotten how to breathe.

Although it was true he'd hauled me in more than either of us had expected, make no mistake: he wouldn't have been able to do it if I hadn't willingly let him.