ghosts around.

we won’t even talk about the debts i owed, because that slate should have been wiped clean long ago. but i obliterated them and it should have been enough and what right do you have, pushing yourself into my now?

none.

six times today, rings, and they’re him, a number i’ll never forget no matter how hard i try. two recordings his voice, and it doesn’t sound right. i know when it doesn’t sound right. i always knew.

a search tells me his mother died, over a year ago. his father, a few years before that – she was not the kind of woman to survive without her husband. they were such a deep part of my world, a decade ago.

a decade. can we discuss that for a second? can we discuss that there’s a decade of history between then and now, between me and all my knowledge and all my faith, and me, this girl who lives grounded so hard in reality but doesn’t know, not ever, how to escape the labyrinths of my mind.

there are things i have locked away in trunks, thick-walled, metal, with locks that no one, nothing, will ever crack. nothing contained within is welcome in my present.

because i put that shit away for a reason.

 

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