There’s still a little bit of your ghost

Oh what it is to hear your voice once more, to know that you are still somewhere in the world, and that I haven’t faded from your heart’s memory. You cannot imagine how much life you breathed into me just by being there, comforting me with the knowledge that you still love me, that you still want to see me again.

The other day I was going through old scribblings, and I found something that I wrote for you. I don’t remember if I sent it of not. It was written some time ago, but it still feels so true that I could have written it yesterday. And what it said was:

I miss you. I still have nights spent longing for you. Days, too. Maybe not as often anymore, with so many other demands on my time. But I think hey, my free time may be more precious and scarce, and yet, consciously or not, I still seem to choose to spend part of it in thoughts of you. And now that we have spoken again, just like that, my time belongs to you once more.

Sometimes I sit and listen to old songs that never fail to transport me back to damp university nights, daring joy rides, musty tablecloths, or even just the curl of smoke from across a small table when all that mattered to me was that I was near you. Sweet torture is what it is. Many times I can’t decide whether reminiscing is painful or cathartic. All I know is that there are things that will never change, and how I feel about you is one of them.

I wish I had two lives. Except, if I did, I’d want to spend both with you.