One Long Nightmare

I see ghosts. Not the kind that most people think of. I see ghosts of him. Lying in my bed, his hair messed up on my pillow. Sitting on my couch, laughing. At my kitchen table, bent over homework. Walking around the neighborhood. At my front door, grinning. In the mirror, just behind me. At our friend's house, just around a corner. I hear his footsteps coming up behind me, expect to feel his arms wrap around me. I hear his voice, just out of range, fading in and out all around me. I hear him singing along to my music in the car. I feel him next to me when I wake up. I can hear him breathing on the phone in between rings. I swear that when I walk out of my house, he'll be waiting. I smell him on my blanket, in my clothes, on my skin. I taste him on the tip of my tongue when I wake from dreams.

I cry because they are only ghosts.