The Ghost of her – Short Fiction

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” For the first time in my life as the music played I realized dimly that I had no one to think of, imagine for, feel as a part of my soul.., I was totally disengaged from pure notions of romance, instead I experienced such musical longings with dazed, emptied and free emotions.., strangely love was not something that I longer realized, relished much less believed in…”

Let’s just say that whatever expressions of affection, the dying, defeated, broken ones that my soul seems to cling on to.. ie the romantic kind are attracted towards her. Her, sounded like the sweetest hymn that inspired melancholic longings so ferocious and fierce that they seemed to make me sadder and sadder as I intensely re-entered the scars that she had left behind… Each time a contact full of promise failed I broke inwardly a little, I became a little more regressive, a little less hopeful and a lot more frustrated in a cognitive, invisible manner.

I am an asker of questions.., Why did she have to come into my life..? Why did she leave..? Why did she return back again..? I knew that there was a realistic nature towards the events that had transpired between the both of us which probably involved her doing what was best for her future, her life and her ambitions…, but being the loner that I am, I replay back the last great thrill of romantic tragedy that affected my life and my heart.

In my heart of hearts I knew that I probably did not inspire the kind of chemical reactions that she had inspired in mine.., I was probably not as attractive as the guys that she found attractive.., the cultural dresses that she grew up around was in stark contrast to what I grew up around, I was a flaming contradiction of paradoxes.., but who was she..? Beyond my acute exciting fear of her.., who was she really..? Why did I want her..? That singular question stumped me.., most of my life I had survived well and fine on my own, I was infamous for being close mouthed about everything and anything, but this pathetic need for somebody else was scaring me…, I had dealt with it in some way or the other for the past four years.., but still I hated appearing weak, vulnerable, needy and desperate..!

Sure she probably yawned, brushed, and snored like the rest of our lowly selves.., but why did this powerful need to immerse myself in the reality of her intoxicate, mystify and excite me..? Me the notoriously passive aggressive individual who waited until all the constellations would be right before he could gather up the appropriate courage to speak in a way that created an impression in a potential mate, life partner, girlfriend etc. My track record thus far was a disastrous one, filled to the brim with debacles, mishaps, painful one sided infatuations that never materialized into even a small hello over prolonged, painful years…, why did I still wish to attempt to fight against what had and will always be against me..?

Why does it feel sweet to imagine her to be my one and only..? Why does she seem, feel and appear sweet..? What if she was as cruel, aloof and deceitful as Summer in 500 days of Summer..? What invisible, learned, conditioned inner processes fuel a girl’s rejection..? How did I appear in her eyes..? What action of mine had the capacity to spark interest in her fierce, womanly self..? Why did I feel like she was the gasoline that met my fiery flames..?

She came in like the wind, unsaid, blowing mystical fragrance into the universe of my soul…, made me feel things that I believed had died when my last gf had dumped me after a year long complicated circus of pain, torment and endless strife not to mention hurt. She brought back the faith that I desired in love.., and yet she still remains outside my powers of persuasion, I am not good at accepting defeat, rejection and the word No…, it creates a pain so deep within me that I struggle to come to grips with what transpired, being the dreamer I think that she feels the same way I feel about her.

I hate how much of myself finds irresistible joy in her..! How could someone so petite, so innocuous, so naive and so controlling inspire the kind of interest that I have revealed..? How many hours have I spent in delighted inner reverie merely imagining my life intermingling with the mere presence of her..? How many guilty trips have I made to her Facebook profile..? To her Instagram..? Only to encounter the cold splash of reality of her avoiding, moving on and irately blocking my attempts to enter her life or whatever bits and pieces that I could find online.

I am growing, I can sense it in the occasional jerk in reality that I get as I receive flashes of the new mingling into the old. I see the airports,the dusty faces, the places that I moved within… I see my vision opening up, my old fears encountering the brimming power of new frames of colors bursting with joy…, I see everything, I observe everything and anything out of the context heavy crowd that I find myself in constantly. I view people as though I would be receiving a staggering revelation of something hidden within their lives.

I had run into her online. Not her personal self, but her shrine of her personal memories.. her activities and her passions.., encountering her had brought back in full effect the ghost of her.., always within me.., but never becoming life#

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