I was sorting through some old video footage and suddenly there he was. Crossing a beach towards me, carrying a bottle of champagne, saying something silly, lit by the most gorgeous end of perfect day light.
And it made me cry.
We haven't seen him for 3 years, but he used to be a very special friend. He's not dead, he's not even very far away, he's just gone, and there's nothing we can do about that.
It's not that I even want to see him, he's caused so much pain and been such a silly, stupid stupid person that the friendship, the fondness, the intimacy we had no longer exists.
To see him now would just be upsetting, ethereal and pointless. Like a ghost.
In so many ways it would be much easier if he was. If he'd died we could've mourned him. We could remember him, the times we had, without the hurt and the anger. If there was a grave or a memorial place we could visit it and laugh through our tears. We could share memories with the others who knew him, some of whom carry a much greater hurt, we could reclaim, untainted, that part of our lives we shared with him.
As I looked at that body that, for never having known (in the Biblical sense,) I knew so well, as I looked at those hands which played music, made beautiful things, remembered the texture of that crazy hair, heard the voice with which I'd talked and laughed so much, for the first time in 3 years I no longer felt just anger.
I just felt sad.
Ghosts walk among us. I felt the presence of one today, and after all this time I still can't help wondering if he ever feels mine.
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- Molly
- South Africa
- I like writing to an audience, but I pretend you're not there. I always read your comments, but I'm useless at responding to them. Sometimes you really get me, sometimes not at all. None of this is personal, just the beauty of the interwebs.
6 comments:
I'm mourning the ghost of a husband who is still very much alive and yet not here anymore. I still see him, but the man I knew is gone and the person I see in front of me is a stranger inhabiting an all-too-familiar body.
Shew, that is rough. Sorry my dear.
You are a beautiful writer. It's all so true too.
What a sad post.
Ah my love. I too have ghosts, a handful. They make me sadder than anything else in my life, even losing my mother. Because, as you so eloquently wrote, at least someone who dies is gone rather than just lost to you ...for whatever reason.
I have made a kind of peace with a couple of my ghosts but it's more of an uneasy truce which is almost worse.
You write so beautifully. Do hope your 'bigger thing' is blossoming. x
i've got my own ghost floating around. sucks.
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