Work in Progress, Maybe

The problem was never a matter of loving you, of wanting you, of almost everything that surrounded you. It was the combination of it all, of that tangled web of lies, those disastrous spirals that sprang up to swallow us whole that became the problem. Whispered words choked to an early grave in the light that dawn brought with it that craved only to make you understand the ways in which I ached. Ached for your fingers against my bare skin, for the heat of your breath against my neck, for your hands in mine, for the rush that you provided. Justice would never be done by the words that I could whisper, that I could scream in fits of rage and ecstasy, that I could say casually with a smile you once called sly.

These are the flickers of you that I am faced with in the dead of night, when my soul grows restless and my mind has nothing but time to wander. Through the hall, down the stairs to a couch tainted with flashes of times spent together that I simultaneously want to burn to destroy what remains and keep alive as long as possible to stop you from disappearing. Ghostly renditions of our domestic life still haunt the nooks and crannies of this house monthly, weekly, daily, hourly. Jumbled together images that come and go from view, jarring in ways that I cannot fully grasp like the puffs of smoke I exhale on the deck at midnight as I try to detach myself.

Time Doesn't Heal All Wounds

          Sampson Abraham McDaniel was often considered to be the golden boy among his peers. Between an unbreakable optimistic view of the world, perfect grades throughout his college career, what most of his school mates would call a dream job, and a social life most people his age would kill for he certainly fit the bill. To those that never knew him beyond his carefully crafted barriers this portrayed perfection rarely faltered for more than a handful of moments, if at all. However, around his trusted friends his flawless image was, unfortunately, beginning to crumble, to break apart and fade away. A situation his friends were unsure of how to handle due to Sampson's refusal to disclose what was bothering him because he wasn't sure if they would understand.
          At work he could handle everything by keeping himself distracted, but alone at night thoughts of his past would break through. Thoughts that ran continuously through his mind one night that made it difficult for him to finish a trivial report for his family's business, his business. Furrowing his brows in frustration Sampson continued to mindlessly click through various browser tabs and programs as his deep blue eyes barely registered the information on his laptop screen. That was until a familiar name flashed at the bottom of the screen, an event he didn't believe was real. Still, it couldn't hurt to look into it farther he convinced himself after several seconds of hesitation. Sure enough, there she was sitting online, Ruby Olivia Owens; the ghost of his past responsible for his present distracted state. Not that he knew what to do next.
          Just like that her name dimmed out, leaving Sampson alone once more with his memories of her. They were a messy affair now that a couple of years had gone by since their final goodbye. Some days he wasn't even sure if he had imagined most of their time together or not. In fact, he was already beginning to believe his eyes were in cahoots with his mind and playing tricks on him. Then it happened again, the little flash at the bottom of his screen that declared her online status. This time there would be no hesitation from him.
          Swiftly he flicked his wrist to move the mouse on to her name, clicking the tiny green phone icon next to her name. "I miss you," he blurted out the instant he heard the tiny click that signified that she had chosen to pick up his call. The words coming out louder than he had intended, which would be a concern for later if his house mate bothered to bring it up at all.
          "You miss everyone," Ruby countered without a second thought, her coral painted lips curving downwards into a small frown as she spoke. She knew the words in part spoke of a falsehood, used to keep her emotions at bay tonight. His presence online was not one that she had taken into consideration when she had decided to wander online for the first time in months.
          Bullshit and you know it, Sampson thought, a familiar surge of annoyance hitting him as he bit down on his bottom lip. He couldn't rightfully blame her for her harsh words though. Between the time that had passed and the frequency at which he used to have to say those words he was far from an ideal candidate for being believable. That was one of the joys of being raised in a family of high society hell bent on looking perfect; whether you believed it or not you had to say it to keep up appearances. Coupled with Sampson's desire to be the shining example of perfection for his parents he always felt compelled to say those cursed words. "Not the way that I miss you," he whispered into his microphone, allowing a few silent moments to pass to let it sink in before forging onward. "It's everything about you. From the way you smell to that sleepy look of accusation you used to give me when you would wake up and blame me for it to  the quiet way that you used to tell me that you loved me. A part of me is missing with you gone. I want you back and I don't want to lose you... Not again, my heart couldn't take it." There, he laid down a good chunk of his heart on the line to be crushed completely or nurtured back to where it once was. From here on out there would be no turning back.
          Ruby's frown deepened with each whispered word, her heart racing and aching for him much like it used to. Those thoughts belonged to a different time, a different her she reminded herself firmly. Sampson had made the move to disengage, to follow the path that his parents had laid out for him, not her. This heartache belonged to her, never him; she had convinced herself of that moments after their end as she worked to get over him. "Your heart can't take it? What about mine? You let me Sammy Bear, not the other way around. Don't tell me about taking it." She began, each word coated with the anger she had repressed all of those years ago. "If it was true you would have found me before this," she continued on, fighting back tears as she spoke. Her mind wandering back to the memories of a boy that would have done anything in his power for her; what a sham that had turned out to be.
          Ruby's words cut him deep due to the level of truth that resonated with each one. At least that was the case with the part of the story that Sampson knew Ruby had heard. The publicized version he had given her was full of family holes and failed to properly portray the degree of which he had fought against it, protested every part of it. Yet despite all of that there was a glimmer of hope when she had said Sammy Bear. "What can I do to prove to you that I mean every single word of it Ruby Gloom?"
          "Tell me the truth. Not that bullshit your family gave you to memorize. That's the part that stung the most. Standing there listening to you lie and hold shit back from like I didn't know you, didn't know all of your stupid little quirks." Ruby began, digging right into matters. Tears now freely rolled their merry way down her flushed cheeks, making her glad that he couldn't see her. Flashing back for a moment to the first night that she had allowed him to see her cry and how he had softly wiped her tears away before holding her tight long into the morning. "Five years together and at graduation time it came down to mother dearest's wishes or me and it was her all the way with the story being something about fulfilling a dying man's wish to truly learn the family business and something about an arranged marriage ordered to bridge some social gap. Who the fuck does that anymore?" These were words she had said before, at least as far as the content was concerned. She had failed to receive any answers then and sincerely doubted that she would be granted any now.
          Sampson sighed, biting at his already bottom lip more. "Marital obligations are a real thing, especially to my family. Something about strengthening the family tree and expanding their territory. That wasn't sprung on me until months after I had to lose you, but I suspect it was always a part of my grandfather's plan," he started in way of explanation. The words coming out in a rush as he lacked any true idea where he was headed, any idea as to how to say any of it properly. "Grandfather McDaniel was dying, is dead. His wishes lacked specifics about learning the family business. It was more of an ultimatum at the time. Either be cast from the family and any chance of work in my chosen field or leave what he declared to be a hopeless love, doomed to failure if I couldn't provide for you a life of luxury. That was his way of saying you were only into me for my wealth I guess." He added, feeling as if it was a futile explanation of the ways his family chose to operate.
          Ruby allowed the words to wash over her as she tried to piece things together one question at a time. "Did you think I was into you for your money?" She inquired, her voice husky due to choking back tears. Her right hand clenched into a fist to work out some of her tension, to level out her voice.
          Unknowingly Sampson mimicked Ruby's hand tactic as he churned thoughts over. "No, never. You were always out to prove that you didn't need me financially."
          "Then why the fuck did you do it?" She yelled out in question, pulling her fruity pajama covered legs protectively to her chest for comfort.
          Silence followed that outburst as Sampson sunk into his office chair, replaying that last month over and over again like a bad movie in his head. "Family... I know that sounds bad, but that's how it works. I thought I could please him and when he was gone I could come back for you. That's the deal I worked out with my parents." He finally stated, his voice muffled as he rested his face in the palm of his hands.
          "You didn't find me though. You could have told me what was going on and you didn't." Ruby whispered, chewing nervously on her bottom lip. Squeezing on to her legs tighter while she picked at the cotton fabric.
          "That was part of the deal with my mother. The less you knew the less likely you were to interfere, so she figured. After his funeral I did try to find you. Your number was disconnected, your parents wouldn't pick up on me, your best friend hated my guts and rightfully so. Still I looked... I went to old hangouts, drove around your home town, but there was nothing... You were suddenly a ghost." Sampson said with conviction, his baritone voice ringing clear with the truth. Starting the week after his grandfather's death he began his search for her, for his true love. While in Ruby's home state he had scoured every location she had every mentioned, had stopped in to pay her parents, who had once adored him, a house call. There was nothing left of her, even her parents had seemed unsure of where exactly she had gone.
          A ghost was an appropriate term for what Ruby had become. The move to being difficult to find had not been intentional, more her way of continuing on with her life plans that had already been mapped out. Fresh out of college, out of playing double duty with employment she had gone out to travel around for a while. Regardless of where she was going traveling was a small passion of hers. At some point she had found a state she adored and moved there without much thought, not even one or two about personally keeping her parents in the loop about her life.
          "They never told me," Ruby finally whispered, attempting to remember how far gone she would have been that first year. Far enough away to be a hard to reach call away from her parents, but close enough to keep in contact with her best friend. "Linette always did hate you more for that than I ever could," she mumbled more to herself than for Sampson's benefit.
          "I don't think Linette approved of me long before that," Sampson contended, unsure of what else to say at that moment.
          Ruby smiled for a split second, unable to argue with that statement. Where she was free spirited and normally quick to love the world her best friend was the opposite. Contrast that worked like a charm for the two of them. Linette would encourage Ruby to stay aware and connect with the real world around her while Ruby aided in the breaking down of Linette's tough outer shell. "When Linette and I moved in together you forgot I was allergic to strawberries and brought over chocolate covered ones as an apartment warming gift. That's when she started to like you as much even though she ate every last one for my safety, so she says."

The Disconnected Call

          "I keep thinking this will get easier," Evelyn murmured into her cellphone. Voice kept low to keep from disrupting the sleep of the people she lived with at the late hour of three am. "But then some part of him resurfaces in my life. Hanging around to keep me haunted for the rest of my life."
          "Ghosts don't go away because you want them to Sweet Pea," explained the masculine voice on the other end. "Not when you wander the world of the living so close to where they lurk." He continued on, placing hope that his words would come off as soothing even if they didn't quite come out that way.
          Evelyn sighed, exasperated with the whole situation, but feeling trapped with it indefinitely. A moment of silence followed afterwards instead of a single word of argument that she was sure her friend was expecting. Had this been any other time it would have happened, instead she was done with it. Not wanting to spend any extra time on a call that created more guilt to float around in her head. Except it was these very same calls, same little conversations that she felt guilty about that got her shakily through the day. "Where am I supposed to escape from him, from this?"
          A loaded question to add to their growing tension was how Bartholomew viewed it. He knew what he wanted to say about it, but unfortunately he had a sinking feeling that Evelyn wouldn't be on board with the idea. Regardless, the words churned over and over again in his head while neither of them spoke. "Move in with me," he finally said, straining to keep himself calm, collected.
          You're one of the ghosts I'm haunted by, Evelyn stopped herself from saying, rolling her rose tinted bottom lip between her teeth to halt the words in their wicked tracks. She had thought of the possibility before when their courtship first heated up before other parts of her life had begun to spiral out of control. "You know I can't," she managed to say, her voice trembling as she spoke.
          Bartholomew had expected this sort of response, but that didn't stop it from bothering him. It was one thing to expect it and then a whole different thing to hear the words aloud. Hearing it crushed even the smallest hints of hope. Despite this he forged ahead, steeling himself for the next part, the worst of it. "No, I don't... Not anymore... Why can't you do it now?"
          "It's not fair to his memory," Evelyn began, tensing up even more. It was as if mentioning this last tie into her ghost made the whole ordeal real.
          "I can't keep doing this... Especially when eventually you need to move on. I want to be who you move on with, but I can't keep waiting on the side lines like this for a day that might not come." There, he finally managed to say part of what he felt, now if only he had dared to say it earlier. Maybe then it would feel less like a death sentence to their lust turned love turned, well, he wasn't sure what anymore.
          Evelyn knew this to be true. One day she would have to brave the sun again and resume life as she knew it. This knowledge did little to aid her in the moment, especially when it was thrust into her face. "Then leave, get out of my life. You don't know what it's like, how much it hurts... How much I blame myself..." The last line a whisper followed by the sound of choked back tears.
          Bartholomew sighed, unsure of what else to say. He didn't believe that Evelyn should blame herself for a freak occurrence, but his opinion on the matter was moot. It had failed to ease Evelyn's pain the day of the accident and during the subsequent days, what use would it be now? "Then I guess this is goodbye. My heart can't keep being a rock for someone that's not ready to be one back... I'll always love you..." Bartholomew hung up then, unable to bring himself to hear her response, her defense. It had been difficult enough to speak the words aloud without immediately breaking down. With the call now over he slumped back into his recliner as he let loose his hold on his phone without a second thought. He couldn't even bother to glance over as it hut on to his laminate hardwood flooring.
          Meanwhile, Evelyn was left speechless as the call was disconnected. There had always been some unspoken belief of mutual love, but hearing the actual declaration was heart wrenching. This sudden vocalized announcement left her wondering if perhaps she had dismissed his suggestion too readily, too easily. Racing thoughts that pressed at the idea to call him back, attempt to salvage this. She didn't though, somewhere in the back of her head was a voice whispering it would be a poor idea that would only end in more tears, more heartbreak. 

Quietly In The Night

          "You used to care more," I whispered into the dead of the night. Quiet words with a punch carried over the air waves to someone that I used to know. My phone free hand tucked against my side for warmth as the arm it was connected to was crossed protectively over my chest. A stance the receiver of my distant call would have described at defensive if miles didn't separate us. "What changed between us?" A question to haunt the graveyard known as the world surrounding me.
           The muffled sound of breathing the only sound of life from her end at first. Followed slowly by the tap of on her manicured nails against the screen of her phone. A noise so familiar that let me know that this conversation was now private as it should have been from the beginning. A trait of hers I had grown accustomed to, but never fond of. Dragged back to a night many moons ago when I first asked her about it. Her voice calming me as she explained that she preferred to not keep secrets from the world; nothing but hollow lies these days.
          "Becky, you know I said it wasn't meant to last," the words like ice as they pulled me back to the present. Each one as solid and deliberate as she always was. "Nothing changed, you're blowing it out of proportion like you always do," she said with the same pointed tone as a crackle here and there broke up the monotony coming from her end of the phone line. Small sounds that hinted at her getting out of bed, moving away from whomever she had been with.
          I braced my self as bet I could as each frigid word washed over me. A chill worse than the one caused by standing outside taking over my body anyway. "That was a long time ago Eloise," the words coming out in a rush as I scrambled to recall the day we me, the day she said those very words to me. Letting myself drift away into those distant memories for a few too many moments.
          It had been years ago now when fate threw us together for the first time. At the time we were both lost, fresh faced freshmen in a new environment vastly different from the one we were used to, that I was used to. Pretending to blend in with the crowd around us as we casually mingled with a large array of our peers. Hollow conversations lingering heavily in the haze filled rooms, on the dimly lit porch. Vaguely I recall being lucky enough to find an empty seat squeezed between her and a fellow who looked as awkward as I felt. Neither him nor I belonged, it was obvious in the way we both clung to the requisite red plastic cups like life lines to a better world. 
          Somehow she ended up falling backwards on to my lap with a high pitched giggle. Her full cup hitting against my equally full cup causing the questionable content of each to spill over the edges, raining down upon us. The silence between us seemed endless at first, but then we were laughing as our bodies meshed together. A kiss here, a squeeze there; intensity at its finest. Movements child like in their exploration an obvious declaration of our lack of an idea as to what we were doing. We both merely knew that it felt right and that was all that mattered.
          It was early the next morning when she told me those words that came to seal our fate down the road. Each one barely making it passed her chapping lips as she whispered huskily in the dark. We untangled ourselves from one another, from those collapsed around us carefully after that. Two daring mice making a peep in the wake of dawn. Not once during our escape from aftermath did I question her. How was I to know that she still clung to that conviction as our worlds collided so effortlessly?
          "Time doesn't kill a feeling, it was never meant to be," death to something beautiful done with poetic words; a scene right up her frigid alley. Faintly in the background the hint of a door clicking open a tad and then sliding fully open to the dead of the night. Chattering teeth confirming the door opening while signaling what I already knew to be true. She had embrace the outside world in the form she said felt the most natural, most comfortable. Pale skin prickling over with goosebumps as she tempted the moon with her beauty, her nudity. How many times had I watched this ritual of hers from my bed, still lost and tangled in the bliss she could bring me? Too many times to count these days; troublesome memories that brought with them a long forgotten rosy tint to my olive cheeks.
          "Love doesn't disappear in a flash," quiet words straining their way pass my lips as I fought off defeat. This battle similar to ones in our past, wrecking havoc on my broken will time after time. Defeat would come eventually though at the pace we were going. The gut feeling wrenching through my entirety even as I dared to defy it, dared to deny it completely.
          "Who said it was love?" A question I should have seen coming. Unrequited love is a force to be reckoned with. I never should have blinded myself to those moments together when I spoke of love and she never reciprocated the words, the free falling feeling. "You were only a good time, a free ride," years of being joined at the hip summarized into an ugly, wilted thing. Beauty between us was truly gone, transformed into an unrecognizable horror.
          "This is goodbye then," my final words coming out with not hint of a shake; imaginary courage and confidence taking control. A finger tap of my own and the call was over with, the realization of salty tears on my face piggy back riding in on the end of it. Yet through that flash of regain awareness came a strange aura of peace. I knew now that in time she would fade away into the background of my life, my mind. There would be no such luck for her though. Forever a part of me would be stuck to her; a ghost for life in her shattering world.