The Ghost of You

PROLOGUE
APRIL 15, 2015
2:45AM

I roam the dark house like a restless soul. The Ativan, which sometimes helps ease these sleepless nights, is not doing its job. I am trapped somewhere between consciousness and sleep; a waif-like creature who could easily be carried off by a strong wind, and who would welcome the distraction from her ravaged heart.

I find myself in the living room, staring out the wall of windows overlooking the Atlantic Ocean. The waves are reckless tonight in the storm, mirroring my own thoughts and emotions. They crash violently against the shore as the wind howls and the rain pelts against the dark house.

I can see the white caps relentlessly pounding against the sand, but further out, I see nothing but inky blackness. A void that resembles the void I feel inside.

Despite the weather warning earlier this evening and the pending hurricane watch, I find myself drawn to the sliding glass door, find myself unlocking it, and with some force I open the slider against the pounding rain. Immediately, the wind slams against me, knocking me off balance as I struggle to walk across the deck to the stairs that will take me down to the shore.

My long hair is tortured and tangled in the storm, whipping against my face and stinging my eyes, and my short nightgown is soaked and sticking to my body by the time I cross the deck and start down the stairs leading to the sand. I shiver, then strengthen my resolve as I start to feel my body relax; the Ativan finally beginning to work its magic.

My thoughts are jumbled, but at the same time perfectly clear. As my bare feet touch the sand, it grounds me. I feel stronger, and the anxiety slowly begins to slip away.

I walk along the shoreline away from the house and once I am far enough away, I allow the dam to break.

The memories bring me to my knees, and as I kneel in the wet sand, I lean forward and rest my head in my hands, shedding tears I've held back for over thirteen years.

Thirteen years since I last saw him, but behind my eyes, he is as familiar to me as the day I said goodbye. His dark, dark eyes, filled with desire and mischief, his secret smile that connected with something deep inside of me… I choke back my sobs as I think of what could have been, of what will never be…

I loved him more than I ever thought possible, though I didn't know it at the time. He meant so much to me that I set him free to live his life the way I knew needed to live it. I knew the pain of losing him would forever change me, but I had no idea that his ghost would linger on to haunt my dreams and my soul for so many years. The experience of knowing him, of loving him has caused my life to be tainted; stained with memories of him and how we once were together.

His last words to me, sent via email only yesterday, have cemented my future and his forever. "I think of you often, Dita Darling, but our lives have been paved in such a way that I must wish you happiness in your future of which I can never be a part." Such finality in his words and, after all this time, the fragile hope I carried inside for so many years has been forever destroyed.

I don't know how long I've been crying, nor how many minutes (hours?) I have been kneeling in the sand, but when the last tear has fallen, I take a deep shuddering breath and slowly pull myself up.

I don't know how I will find the strength to move on, but something inside compels me to start walking, back towards the house and my bleak, unknown future. I walk with my head down, the wind still a strong force that pushes and pulls in all directions and it is only when I reach the stairs that I glance up to see the dark figure standing on the deck. I can't see very well in the shadows, but my body reacts immediately, and I struggle to catch my breath.

A familiar voice carries on the wind, and I feel my heart start to pound as his words reach my ears.

"Hello, Dita Darling. It's been a long time."