Ghost

I’ve always had an affinity for ghosts and specters. So many are claimed to be such tortured souls, tragically left lost after their bodies have been ripped from existence with death and decay….

There’s something so inherently beautiful in that to me. In that idea that something capable of complex thought and emotions lingers. In the tragedy of their plight.

I probably sound a little sadistic, don’t I?

I don’t mean to. In fact, I really rather sympathize with the idea of the stranded departed. For I too know what it is like to suffer in the background. To be the one to make another soul jump at my mere presence. To have no one understand the chaos surrounding me in my attempts to get someone’s kind attention. Oh yes, I know that all too well….

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again; growing up with my brother with special needs meant my childhood was a little different in some ways. Among them was the effect mostly staying inside had on my interactions with peers.

I had no idea how to act around other kids. I didn’t understand why they were so loud, and active, and, well… kids. I was used to interacting with adults, and that meant being quiet, listening, and sitting still, or engaging in conversations that often surprised the adults I spoke to because, well… I was a kid. At least in body.

I’ve always felt like I have an old soul. It is nearly always tired - depleted. Doesn’t enjoy company for too long; it likes solitude. Grumbles about inconsiderate folk. Yeah, hi - I’d like to apply for the position of old mountain hag. Suitors need not apply, though I suppose I can drag the current ball and chain with me; I don’t want to break a new one in - that sounds exhausting.

So I didn’t bond well with classmates, and became more of an outcast and - mostly - a loner. I was bullied and a bully - as schoolmates picked on me, I would lash out. No one else was around to step in in my defense. And I told my parents little to nothing as I grew up. Partly because they never seemed to understand and I didn’t want to have to explain everything, and partly because it was a never-ending task to care for my brother - to me, they already had enough shit to deal with without me adding to it. Never mind that I was a child and I had needs too.

I was also shy; my mom had to ask a few kids for me if they would like to play and such. Most such friendships were short-lived or seemed to have been made out of pity, so I didn’t have a solid friendship until about 6th grade. I will say there was one other girl in particular who did seem genuine and nice, and I wish I had been comfortable enough with that to have maintained the friendship; she really was a kind soul. But I wasn’t used to that; I didn't feel like I deserved it. It was… uncomfortable to be around. Nice, but uncomfortable.

Then, there was a “friend” who was such a cunt. Her name was Jordan, and she was a popular bitch. I was desperate to hang out as a youngster, but I think she was only playing games in hindsight. There was nothing genuine about her except her better-than-everyone attitude. And there was nothing genuine about our “friendship” - it was just a sick game she played.

She was the one who, when I had her over for a sleepover, made me give up my bed to sleep on my pile of stuffed animals between my bed and wall. Younger me had little issue with it, but looking back, that was kind of shitty on her part. Too good to let me sleep in my own bed or to sleep on the floor herself. I don’t know why I ever wanted to hang around her. Looking back, I didn’t even really like her - I just wanted to hang around someone.

The real fallout with her came when I was hanging over at her house briefly, after the holidays. I asked my mother if I could have Jordan stay the night, and she said okay. Asked Jordan, she said no. Well…

I asked my mother if another friend could stay over that night instead, and she said yes. Until… Well, until I taunted Jordan about it. I was angry because Jordan always thought she was better than anyone else, so her saying no came off as a dick move because she thought herself above staying at my place again. She was so snooty.

Instead, it got me in trouble. No one got to stay over and I was punished by having to take all the decorations back off the tree by myself. Jordan and I stopped hanging out after that.

The last I saw of Jordan, she really was a fucking cunt. She kicked a soccer ball at one of my dogs I’d taken on a walk. Repeatedly. I hope I never see that bitch again. Good riddance - she’s not someone I would ever like to be around again. I’ve tried thinking back, but there were absolutely no redeeming qualities when it came to her. Grade A bitch. These days, if I encounter someone that reminds me of her, I know they aren’t worth a damn bit of my time.

Fuck you, Jordan. You fucking cunt.

I know, I don’t sound much better right now, but that last bit where she kicked soccer balls at my dog royally pissed me off. I have absolutely nothing good to say about Jordan.

And then there was the girl that I considered my best friend for all 17 years we were friends, from about 6th grade. We’ll call her Tonks - among her favorite Harry Potter characters. Admittedly, I don’t recall very well how we became friends. I think it was such a gradual thing to me and that I was so used to short-lived “friendships” that I hadn’t really noticed or even cared much when we began bonding. I never expected things to last by that point. I’d been invited to things before, but it always seemed to be in the vein of pity to me. I’m sure some parents said something when they saw me looking so left out of everything. That didn’t mean I wasn’t excited to be invited somewhere, and my mother always made sure I had a good gift to give for the few birthday parties I did get invited to.

Tonk’s parents were divorced, and she too had a younger sibling with special needs. Not as reliant on others as my brother, but enough that I know Tonks and I shared some of the same feelings towards both of our strict mothers; we were both overshadowed by our siblings’ needs, and neither of us ever felt like we measured up to their unreasonably high standards. Granted, I think it’s taken me until the last few years to reach that definition, but that was what it had boiled down to even back then.

I felt a little sorry for our science teacher in 6th grade; both Tonks and I wound up doing individual reports on horse evolution in the same class - I can only imagine how many times he’s heard a report on that subject! Tonks and I wound up bunking together on a week-long trip to a camp for school that year as well; I guess I never let her get the top bunk like we agreed to 50/50, but elementary school is largely a blur with significant things standing out. If I only had a redo button….

Tonks would have me over for sleepovers sometimes. This led to us sleeping out in the living room at her dad’s with a spray bottle of water between us; whoever woke up first was to spray the other awake so we could hang out as long as possible before I went home. Supposedly she woke up first, but decided to let me sleep and went back to sleep herself. I, however, was not so kind, and did wind up spraying her awake. To be fair, I did hesitate before doing so. But time was of the essence; I never got to watch those Saturday morning cartoons growing up, and we were excited to watch them. Her dad had also bought donuts, including the only ones Tonks could stand; powdered.

A few times, I slept over on a Saturday night, rather than Friday. This led to me having to go to church with Tonks and her family a few times. I was one confused, uncomfortable, out-of-place Atheist, and I was not a fan of going. But I was just happy to spend time with who I considered my best friend.

Tonks did not consider me her best friend for a long time; she had a best friend back in Massachusetts she’d grown up with in their early years. I was okay with that; it stung a bit, but it was understandable. And just because I wasn’t her best friend didn’t mean she wasn’t mine.

She’s the only person to own a picture of me in a red, two-piece swimsuit, after all. Think that was taken the one time we celebrated her birthday with a swim party at her mother’s apartment - all other times we’d hung out had been at her dad’s or a public place. I hated that picture, but she always relished in having it, mostly to tease me.

In middle school, we didn’t get to hang out as much. There were many more students at the middle school, and we didn’t wind up in the same classes. I was mostly alone again, but I guess so was she. She was friendly though, and guys liked her; I was largely anti-social but could be chatty, and some guys took mild interest. But “dating” then was more or less just the label and little else.

We were still largely separated in high school - sometimes we only had lunch together, sometimes our “free period” when we were juniors and seniors. Tonks began irritating me some; she was supposed to come over to help me with math that I was struggling with, but would instead watch anime episodes or call and chat with one of a revolving door of boyfriends every time she’d come to “help”. We loosely hung around an admittedly strange group. Many were bisexual, though we were not. It was largely nerds - anime and manga, Magic: the Gathering, and cosplaying were big in the group. Nice enough, but I always felt on the fringe of them all; something just slipping through the cracks in the fabric of society.

I sat by myself at lunch most of high school. Many were afraid to approach; after heartbreak hit hard at 15, my wardrobe had slowly darkened. This held an unexpected positive when I realized that I had a lot less people poking fun at me when I was decked out in full black. Then again, the Columbine Massacre occurred when I and most of my peers had been young and at school ourselves - and we were not all that far away from Columbine high school, so someone dressed in such a fashion likely threw up red flags for many. I wasn’t complaining.

It was hard, though.

That heartbreak meant I annoyed the few friends I did have, to the point I stopped reaching out for fear of annoying them away completely. To this day, most of those friendships are still broken, and I see little reason to put in the effort to revive them. It was the hardest thing to do, to sit in my room at night in inner turmoil in silence, writing out and deleting texts to friends on the nights I was desperate to reach out. Those were my darkest nights, and there were many I didn’t know how I could survive them. Hell, I still don’t know how I did. I’d had thoughts to kill myself or run away since I was 7, so I guess years of practice talking myself back down helped.

I developed a friends-with-benefits situation at 15 as well. There’d been an incident at school; an older classmate groped me in front of a group of my peers for an extended amount of time. And after that incident, I began acting in some strange ways that even I didn’t understand at the time. I didn’t realize until over a decade later why I’d done such things, and when I did, it boiled down to the vulnerability I felt after that incident. I took on the friend-with-benefits thing so that I'd have someone in my corner. I couldn’t make a decent connection otherwise, so I used sex to keep this guy in my corner, so that I wasn’t alone. So that maybe, if something like that incident happened again, maybe he’d be around and would actually do something to help me.

Just to clarify, we were careful about what we did. I’ve never desired to have my own kids.

I guess he developed some feelings during the two years this went on, but I was still obsessed with Mr. Heartbreaker. Er. Maybe I won’t call him that; how about Dipshit? I was still obsessed with Dipshit. Yes, that. Much better.

Eventually, my friend decided he wanted to ask another girl out. I was fine with it - I even vouched for him when she asked me about him. I should have known…

To my surprise, they became a couple. But I figured by that point, after two years in our other situation, that my spot was secure in his little circle. In a way it was, but in others, not so much…

His new girlfriend was possessively jealous, paranoid - particularly of me given what her boyfriend and I had done - and fucking loud. Good fuck, her voice was the most annoying thing to me. Which did not bode well for the initial blowout.

I wasn’t feeling well one day - had a cold coming on. I may also have been about to menstruate, which there are a few days in a month that it doesn’t take much at all to set me off. I wasn’t that intimate with that little fact until much later, but in hindsight, now I wonder. Any case, I wasn’t feeling well and was irritated when I went to school that day. As soon as I heard my friend’s girlfriend - we’ll call her K. from here on - from halfway across the cafeteria as the school waited for classes to begin, I instinctively knew I should avoid her that day.

I was doing just that, and was doing well until lunch. While I scanned the room for her before sitting down to eat, she managed to sneak up behind me, explosively greeting me. Zero to pissed in half a second was I. I turned around and belted back, “HEY K!”

I felt bad for my outburst after I’d calmed back down, and I was mulling over how best to apologize the next day when her boyfriend - B. - started texting me and tearing into me. I took this as she must have bitched to him about it, and at the thought of 2 vs. me, I started getting angry at them both. And that’s how that divide began. Sure didn’t take much, did it?

We tried patching things up, but while B. and I wanted to stay friends, K. was concerned he would cheat on her with me. Which, for the record - not my style. I get why she was paranoid, but really, she had nothing to worry about from me; I just wanted my friend to stay my friend. He was the only one in my corner. Eventually, this led to me and B. meeting at the park between our houses late one night, just to chat.

I was known to wander around the neighborhood at night, when it was quiet. K. knew this, so when she called B. and he answered right in front of me, telling her he was on a walk, she warned him to stay clear of me, knowing I could be out and about.

I should have walked away there; clearly, his new relationship with her was more important to him than a 2 year friendship. He claimed he had my back, was on my side…

No, he wasn’t. Not in any meaningful capacity.

After that call, there was a festival going on at another park in the area. I knew B. had previously worked at one, and I didn’t want to run into them there after that call. I was pissed at K. for all the shit she was putting me through; I’m sure I was putting them through some shit too, but they at least had each other. It felt like she took my friend from me, and based on how little he seemed to do in my defense, she pretty much had. So I posted a status on Myspace that I had better not run into certain folks or I might just punch someone in the face. I didn’t name names, and honestly it was all talk; I knew she stalked my profiles like the fucking paranoid creep she was, and I just wanted to make sure that, since the festival was only over the course of three days, that I didn’t run into her the one day I went. I’d never fought before; all talk.

Well, she took it as a good threat, and my friendship with B. ended the next day in a terrible phone call. Basically, they threatened to get a restraining order if I kept up, because K. “felt threatened”.

Oh, but it wasn’t over.

I called a few times after, but nothing. It fucking hurt, and I wished I had never vouched for B. to her. The whole situation felt like betrayal. There were plenty of nasty bits I haven’t explained; they were done out of sheer anger and hurt. Doesn’t excuse them, but… That’s where I was at. I tried to do my friend a solid, and I wound up losing….

Of course, as much as it hurt, as I think back, losing B. wasn’t that bad outside of pain. He wasn’t exactly a great friend either, though he certainly wasn’t the worst in a long list of failures. He was just the guy that was supposed to be in my corner - and had been - until K. She took my friend and my short-lived security. It was nice while it lasted.

Oh, but it still wasn’t over! They kept shit up long after high school was over.

K. would find me on various social media after we finished high school - a few, she even used an alias and added me until I figured it out. She’d post anonymous remarks, shit-talking any drawings I uploaded.

And then, there was the time they came looking for me at my workplace.

I don’t know if B. did me one last favor here or not; before the final blowout, I told him my schedule at the gas station had changed; I would be working days rather than nights. I came in one day and my coworker told me about this couple that had come looking for me by name the day before, after my shift had ended. After she gave me a description, I showed her pictures I had of them, and she confirmed; they had come into my workplace looking for me. Thankfully, they either never came in again, or I never heard about it again.

I hope I never hear from either again. I can’t do that shit again, and it isn't worth it to me anymore to try and have that "friendship" back.

Back-track a bit to senior year. At the same time K. and B. and I were all going at it, Tonks and I were at odds - she was tired of hearing me talk about the same guy (Dipshit), while I was sick of her having a new one every time I turned around. It was hard for me to defend her to other members of the group. We had a falling out that didn’t get repaired until graduation - nearly a full school year.

There was a girl, named Alex, who I also wish I had seen the potential in. She sat behind me in one of my classes, and even tried to reach out to me. She was kind, and supportive; she really seemed to like my drawings. But I still wasn’t used to her kindness. In a way, I guess I rejected it. I’d been looking for it for so long, it’s like I didn’t recognize it or didn’t think it was genuinely a thing anymore.

She was a friend on Facebook for a while after high school, until I deleted half of the people on my friend list in my early twenties. We hadn’t spoken much, so I suppose I declared her just another one I lost contact with. I wish I hadn’t deleted her. I don’t even know if I should reach back out. I could, but…

I don’t even know what I’d say or what I’d even want from it now. Not to mention, she could have a different last name now.

There was also “Fun Size”. She was a year or two younger than me, and barely over four feet tall - which is why she was sometimes called “Fun Size” - like a mini candybar. She was pretty, and small, and constantly had guys after her. To the point, she would seek me out; if anyone had the look and attitude to get the guys to steer clear, it was me, especially after the fallout with B., when I was so raw and angry and vulnerable myself. So when she was overwhelmed by guys during off periods, she’d stick close to me, and no one really bothered her. Think that’s also where the rumors I was a lesbian came from. I’m not.

“Fun Size” seemed genuine; I think she really did like hanging out with me, and for more than the fact that I was a human buffer at school. It got to the point where I’d walk over to her house and we’d hang out sometimes after school or during summer break. I had to share of course - there was nearly always a boyfriend or other friend along. But she was so friendly, she made it work. I would have been exhausted trying to keep up with as many folks as she had wanting to hang around.

Tonks and I had that falling out our senior year. Patched it up for graduation.

I was really surprised at the turnout for my graduation party; over 40 people showed up. Mostly neighbors, family, and family friends, but still - it was bigger than I thought I’d have. When all was said and done, I’d netted over $1,000. Tonks, “Fun Size” and a few others even made it!

Not everyone had their party the day of, however. Tonks and another friend, “Kitten”, both had theirs the same night about a week after. I was at Kitten’s, where a bunch of peers had come and it was a fun time, when I started getting texts from Tonks. I had intended on going to both, but I did have work the next morning, and it was getting late enough that I wasn’t sure if I could still make both. Tonks talked me into sleeping over - despite how early I had to be at work and that it was an hour drive from her dad’s, he would drive me to work.

I was confused why she wanted me over so badly. Sure, I considered her my best friend, but at that point, I still wasn’t hers. There were a lot of classmates at Kitten’s however, and with Tonk’s dad living so much further, I figured not many of our peers must have come and she didn’t just want to visit with family. So I had my dad pick me up from Kitten’s, packed my overnight bag and work uniform, and he drove me to Tonk’s, grumbling about how pointless it seemed because of the lateness and warning that I, “better not be up all damn night since [I] have work in the morning”. He dropped me off, and I walked up to Tonk’s, and within seconds of walking through the door, I knew why she wanted me to come over so badly.

There was no one there.

I thought maybe relatives had come and gone, but as Tonks ran downstairs to her room to get my stuff in and settled, her dad pulled me aside.

“I’m so glad you came. Thank you, so much,” he told me. I learned that I was literally the only person outside of her parents and sister to celebrate with her. I felt really shitty about it still; by the time I’d gotten there, we had just enough time to get ready for bed. We all got up early so they could drive me all the way to work. Had it not been so late the night before when I learned all that, I’d like to think I’d have called my aunt - who I worked for. I’m sure she would have told me to take the day off, and I could’ve helped make Tonk’s day better. But I showed up.

Like I showed up when she was moving to Nevada to be with her boyfriend/fiancé. I stayed three days and nights to help her pack.

By that point, I was pretty used to staying at home. I was used to not hearing from anyone. I was used to "suffering in silence" like B. told me to in our final blowout. I missed my friend and former friends, sure, but there was no one to reach out to.

Tonks sent letters sometimes. Eventually, she moved back to Colorado; her relationship ended after she made some poor choices. We’d go smoke Shisha at Hookah bars or go shopping at the mall or snag lunch/dinner somewhere. I often paid for food since she was doing all the driving. I helped her move a few more times with a different boyfriend, after he and I stopped playing tug-o-war with Tonks as the rope. After a string of other jealous jerk-offs she never should have gotten with. Some things never changed.

“Fun Size” and I ended after one big blowout; she told me she was both involved in some shady shit and thinking about dropping out of school. I was angry, disappointed, and had no desire to be involved with someone like that, and I cut ties. Years later, I feel maybe I was too harsh to cast judgement, as I have not been in a good state myself since. Not so reckless as to get involved in that sort of shit, but I better understand how insecurities can drive people to subconsciously do stupid, shitty things. I’ve recognized some of what it caused me to do.

She sent me a message on Facebook several years ago, telling me she missed me. I sat on it, thinking I might respond, but the longer I waited, the more awkward it seemed to do so. Maybe, if I get myself on a better track, maybe then I can reach out to her and let her know that I have missed her as well - my back is not still turned. I just haven’t felt I have anything to offer her that would be of any use; I’m certainly not much use to myself.

An old classmate who had once bullied me, then apologized - a first - got back in touch with me. We started chatting, and I started considering her someone I might like to hang out with.

She was bipolar, but I didn’t mind at first. My biggest mistake had been not asking about her relationship status. I had thought to, but then considered it rude and, “she’ll tell me if she wants”. I should’ve just asked. Turned out, her guy was into some shady shit. Like, really shady.

Catching up was fun; she’s always been very creative and I love seeing the stories she comes up with. She’s one of those women you can just sit in a car and chat and have a good time with. A little out-there for my tastes sometimes with her thinking in day-to-day situations, but overall, good times were had.

Until shit got weird. Her guy was in prison, but had, “guys on the outside, watching”. Real or not, it was creepy shit and she’d point out cars that circled my block every ten minutes while we sat in her car talking when she dropped me off. Particularly scary was the time we went to a Hookah bar and she was chatting with a fellow. Nothing concerning - just chat. She got a call that she walked off to take, and when she came back in, all she said was, “We gotta go. Now.” I don’t think I’ve moved so quickly to leave somewhere.

Following that, there was another guy who wanted to hang out, really late at night. She didn’t know him well, kind of a friend-of-a-friend situation, and I didn’t think it was smart for us to go over to this guy’s house like he wanted; shady shit aside, we didn’t know if this guy wanted us to go to his house because some other guy(s) were there waiting in an ambush for whatever reasons. There were too many red flags for me. I suggested, if she wanted to meet him that night, we go to a public place. It being so late, we opted for a Denny’s.

The whole thing set me on edge. Worse yet, he somehow got my cell number. My pal said she didn’t give it to him - or at least didn’t recall, as she has some memory issues too, I think. So either she gave it to him and forgot, or he got it in a way I don't know. He wasn’t the only one to get my number in a strange manner during this time. Once again, at a Hookah bar, this guy her guy knew found us… He asked if he could make a call from my cell, and I reluctantly handed it over. He called his own phone, so he’d have my number. Let me tell you, my hackles were raised at that one. Red flag instantaneously. He wasn’t such an issue, but the first guy who we don’t know how he got my number was.

We started that 20 questions thing; mine were average things, his were, uh… Well, what you’d expect from a guy. Sexual. I didn’t like texting him, but with all these weird, shady connections, I wasn’t sure what to do. I would tell my friend - let’s call her Actress from here out - about him. I explained I was thinking about putting him on block - blacklisted - but wanted to see what she would say.

The next time we hung out, Actress asked me if I’d heard from the guy. When I said no, I hadn't actually, she had a smugness about her. Someone had been sent to talk to him. Supposedly, talk, but, you know… I wonder. Supposedly there’s some protocol, but I didn’t wanna touch that shit with a thirty foot pole. Which made hanging out with Actress difficult. I liked hanging out with her, but the rest of it, I’d happily do without.

She reached out to Dipshit, who - even after seven years - I still missed and wondered about. Much to my surprise, he reached out to me, and we rekindled for a brief four months. When I explained some of these situations that were going on at the same time, he agreed it was risky shit.

But Dipshit is Dipshit, and he lost interest and cut ties with me again after months of building me up. I knew he would leave again if I pushed, and once he used my brother as the excuse why we couldn’t be, I knew I had to push. I couldn’t leave him, but he could easily leave me. I knew; it still hurt like a bitch. I wanted a life with him. So damn much.

Actress and I fell apart too, after I began dating my current partner. I was literally in an Urgent Care after midnight while he was getting scanned for chest pains he was having and did not respond to her. That didn’t sit well, and the argument turned into the same ones of our past - she’s come and gone many times in my life. She’s since reached out on Facebook, but she’s also still with that same guy (I think) and I think that I’ve just had enough.

Which is why, when it came to cutting ties with Tonks, I simply ghosted.

We’d been friends for 17 years - it wasn’t an easy decision to make. I’d questioned cutting ties in the past, but her boyfriends had encouraged me to stay a few times. And then there was that graduation party - that night where her dad had been so grateful that I, at least, had shown up. It wasn’t just that I would be down a best friend - I worried what would happen to Tonks. Her dad’s words haunted me. But I wanted to cut ties.

I still haven’t pinpointed the why.

I’ve tried to tell myself it was because of how easily she was willing to put her sister in a home, rather than care for her like I would my brother, much worse off. I’ve told myself it was my mother getting into my head again. That a best friend should be a better friend and listen to me - even if it was about Dipshit again - especially after I’d had to listen to her deal with the same problems in a different guy for just as long. That a best friend should be supportive and know important things about me. I told myself we fell in together because we were both outcasts, and now we had grown apart.

She started dating the man that she would eventually marry. They’d come over to my boyfriend’s apartment and we’d play games or watch movies. All was decent - I’d started spending most of my time with my boyfriend. We stopped having girl’s nights. And then my boyfriend and I moved for the first time together.

It was a bit closer to my parents, so it was easier to drop everything to go help out with my brother. It was also the second time I’d moved that year, first slowly moving piles of items until my parents told me it was okay. That’s led to another issue, I think, but one for another time.

My issue, the one I think that finally made me say, “Yeah, enough”, was that shortly after moving into the town home so we could keep our new puppy, Aleu, Tonks said something.

“Why haven’t you finished unpacking yet - you don’t have a job.”

While true, it struck me just how much like my mother Tonks sounded. And also, just how little she actually knew about me - again, just like my mother. 17 years, and she didn’t understand why I was so damn exhausted that I couldn’t even finish unpacking, even without a job to take up hours of my time. I guess it was a little unfair to think she might; I had never expressed to her that I had wanted to kill myself many, many times each year for nearly two decades. I guess I thought she’d understood how much helping out with my brother my entire childhood had worn me down. But that she could ask me that in that manner just made me know; she didn’t, and this was not a friendship I desired to continue. I wanted someone who considered my hardships too.

I waited until she came over to hang out, just her and my boyfriend and I. I would have preferred one-on-one for her comfort and honesty, but this was as close as I could get then and I wasn't up for waiting any longer. I asked her if she felt safe with her boyfriend. He was treating her well? Along those lines. When I didn't hear the same red flags as previous relationships, that sealed it; I gave myself the green light to cut ties.

I didn’t contact her on her birthday; that should have been the first indication to her that things had changed. I didn’t reach out for weeks, then a month. For a while, I don’t think she noticed; she wasn’t trying to get hold of me yet.

One night, house-sitting at my sister’s, I was chatting with my dad. Probably checking in after a few days alone at the house. I hit the wrong button from my contacts list after we were disconnected, and it began calling Tonks. The phone was new to me - a hand-me-down from my boyfriend - and I couldn’t figure out how to hang up for a moment. This accidental call only confirmed things for me; if I was calling so late, potentially in an emergency, and she still couldn’t be bothered to respond or check back after, then I had made the right call.

A few months later, I was avoiding her texts and calls. My parents had to suffer with me, as she tried calling for me there too. My parents begged me to talk to her, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t pinpoint the why and I knew she would ask. I didn’t feel good about it, but at the same time, there was relief in ignoring the calls.

I have few people that I talk to these days. While I like the friends I still have, I can’t say that I’m really that close with any. 2021 was an exception in that I have hung out with a few friends maybe three times; prior to this year, I hadn’t hung out with anyone outside of family in two years.

Most of the time, I'm fine with this. I’ve had my parents and boyfriend, up until family drama this year caused my parents and I to stop talking for months. This is still ongoing as of November 2021. But I’ve since come to realize that neither my parents nor my boyfriend can really give me certain things I need or crave in relationships. I need something else - something I can’t quite identify yet. I have one friend that seems to meet this need, but she, like me, is quite content with solitude, so we don’t get together often. I try not to annoy her, because I do really like her; I don’t want to lose her too.

There’s no one I feel I can reach out to on my darkest nights; I still have to talk myself down from thoughts of ending my own life. There’s no one outside of my boyfriend that I try to reach out to to celebrate any small wins I gain. My family isn’t that supportive in that regard. My boyfriend is, but it’s not quite what I desire when he does. Maybe I just need a chatty female friend to gossip and bitch with....

Even in my beloved World of Warcraft, I don’t have anyone I feel I can have a conversation with genuinely; I always have to hold back on some front. Maybe that’s why writing like this is enjoyable and somewhat beneficial. I’ve had to hold back so much, fearful of what others will think. But here, no one can interrupt. No one can leave comments. I can express my views fully from my perspective, in my own time. Really, how many people would even read something like this? Not enough for it to really matter, certainly. So what if 10 people read this? 1,000? Unlikely, but even then, it’s such a small number.

I used to dislike being a ghost. Some days, it’s still hard to be one. But most of the time, it suits me just fine; I’ve seen what the world has to offer in people, and I’m usually happy to mind my own. I have a loving boyfriend and a household of the sweetest critters I could have ever hoped for. I may not fit in much in the world outside our home, but here, at least, I’m not expected to be anything but me. So don’t mind me if I’m looking uncomfortable in public; I’m simply eager to return home to my partner and pets, where someone is always in my corner. And always happy to see me.

Playlist.