Member-only story
A Trick of Madness
I should have known, I should have known.
When July hit like a smog, I should have started a new page.
I should have deleted everything, every single thing that reminded me of you, because life was for the alive — not the ghosts. But a part of me wanted to cling to something that had felt good, that had felt like a lifeline, that had sustained me when I thought I was drowning.
I’ve never been good at goodbyes.
But I’ve been slowly going through everything in the boxes. The letters, the poems, the things I wrote in scraps you never saw. You didn’t care about any of them anyway. I know this now. Whatever had drawn you to me in those early days, it didn’t exist anymore. Maybe you had simply haunted me for too long that I had become the ghost in the process.
I sometimes wonder what will happen if we cross paths someday. Will the woman in the flowing dress be on your arm? Will her eyes sparkle when she looks at you? Will she have her hand settled in the crook of your arm as she leans into you and dares a smile your way?
These are some of the things that keep me up at night. I know you would tell me to let you go — for your sanity, you’d plead — but I can’t seem to draw my line loose from yours yet. Our twine is tangled, knotted, even if you don’t feel it.
