I’m 19 and it’s mid-afternoon on a Sunday. Or maybe it’s 8pm.
I have to be the storyteller now. Make love
out of history.
THE LOVE YOU WANT SO BADLY IS ALREADY WITHIN
YOU. YOU ARE IT. YOU HAVE BEEN IT SINCE YOU
WERE BORN.
YOUR MOM SAID, “WHEN I HAD YOU, I FOUND THE
LOVE I HAD BEEN SEARCHING FOR MY WHOLE LIFE.”
Will any of us get to be children?
Parallel hauntings.
“I think I’m turning into a ghost.”
“My best friend hasn’t been to school in four days.”
I don’t know anything about ghosts. But
I know things
about love.
Is this what haunting feels like?
“You look just like her, you know?”
I’m jealous of the living.
There’s no pain below the surface. But
no healing
either.
I buy a phone book. I find the address. I hop on a train.
I ring her doorbell.
I STAY ALIVE.
