The Ghost Of A Ghost (Of A Ghost)
I romantically wrote novels of us on empty cups, envisioning the moment when your dark eyes would meet mine after a night out on Bowery. Sometimes, I would cross out the words to write a more cliche moment in an airport where our gazes meet for a second, but I continue walking away from you.
The truth is, we never saw each other again. Your name never escapes our mutual friends' lips, your face never makes a cameo in photos on my newsfeed, a song never comes on and reminds me of college nights spent with you in Coconut Grove.
I thought you were the love of my life that would haunt me forever, and sometimes I wish you would.
But you are only a ghost of a ghost, one that I question ever lived at all.