there are little reminders of him everywhere. in every nook, every crevice. i purge every thought of him from my mind, but his memory lingers like the faint scent of the ocean on the breeze. i inhale. i exhale, trying to purge his ghost, but i only breathe him further in. i taste the salt air coat my saccharine tongue. i feel the grains of sand seep into my blood. this is where he belongs. not him. but the ghost of what could have been, chased away by fear. he is mine, and i am his. these little reminders of his ghost everywhere will keep me warm tonight.

fear sinks its bony grip into my flesh, its cold grasp vibrating in my very core. muffled sobs echo in the hollow chambers of my mind. i flatten my palms against the sides of my face, fingers curling around the shell of my ears. i hum a lullaby beneath my breath. it is hauntingly familiar, a reflex rather than a conscious choice. i shudder when i recognize it. everything always comes back to this. every problem, every conflict always leads me back down this road. this is why i am broken. this is why i run.

clarity does not arrive with a deafening clap of thunder or a blinding flash of lightning. it creeps in quietly, so subtly that i fail to recognize the change of season in my life. i live among the ghosts of yesterday, comfortable in my pain and brokenness. but i can only dance among their shadows for so long. i cannot blame my fear of failure on the examples and experiences set before me. the mist clears as realization dawns. the past cannot—no, will not dictate the future. i whisper goodbye and press a kiss to my fingertips as his ghost fades into wisps of my memory.

i am ready to love again.