He haunts me.

I think about him in class, while driving, while working, while spending time with family.

I find myself wishing he were next to me.

That I could look over at him and smile during boring lectures.

That he’d be singing along to the songs on the radio, dancing in his seat at the red lights. Maybe

even holding my hand, as the wind from the open windows blows our hair in our faces.

I wish that he could laugh along to the family jokes. That he’d snicker at my grandma’s

comments, and have honest conversations with my parents.

I wish he were next to me.

Wouldn’t we be such a power couple? Each being independent and chasing after our own

dreams, but doing it side by side.

Wouldn’t he hold my hand and squeeze it tight while casually walking around the city streets?

Wouldn’t he sneak up behind me, wrap his arms around my waist as I did the dinner dishes?

Wouldn’t he still smile at the sight of me, and throw his arms around me, almost stepping on my

toes in the process?

How lonely it is to constantly think of the person you care for the most, but to realize it’s not

being reciprocated.

How cold the air feels when you’re alone, hopelessly longing for the one person who won't text

you back.

His voice haunts me, as I replay old videos of the memories from years ago. His laugh when I

made sarcastic comments under my breath. The way it was like a drug, I was addicted and

always wanted to be the cause of it. His tone when he talked me through my anxieties and

doubts, then reassured me that everything would be okay; he would get really calm and quiet,

but definitive. Even when he was annoyed or upset with me, he was patient and tried to hide his

negative emotions - but I could see through it, his voice strained with every word, controlling

himself in the moment.

I see his face everytime I close my eyes as I try to fall asleep. His eyes, a mix of a mossy shade of

green and the color of the water he loved so much. His hair, similar in color to mine at the time,

always tucked under a hat. His bright smile, the one I still look for with bated breath in a

crowded room full of people who I used to know.

I am haunted by a ghost.

Not a ghost of a past love, but of one that never did.