Inside These Walls

I hate when Lucy works these long nights. I could never talk her out of it though. She's always had such drive, such an incredible work ethic. Ever since I met her, I couldn't hold her back from her work. I remember when she got her new job at our local publishing company. I was so happy to see her finally living out her dreams.

Sadly, I know why she's so late tonight. Her sadness. I've been with Lucy for five years now, and one thing I know all too well is how she uses her work to distract from her feelings. She tries to make her depression disappear behind her pride. I'd say she's going to burn herself out, but I think we're far past this point. The doorknob jingles.

I can hear Lucy gently close the door behind her. Her usual quiet self. I don't understand why she's so careful, she could never do anything to disturb me. I hear her slip off her shoes, which sound like they could be the black pumps I bought her for her our three-year anniversary. I'm dwelling on why she could be wearing these shoes so often again. Is she wearing them because they were a gift from me, or because she's trying to impress someone else?

You know what, I don't even care if she wants to be with someone other than me. Most days I'd prefer it. She's stuck on me. Stuck on the only love she may have ever known. And if we're being honest, I ruined it. I ruined it with my own selfish actions. I acted without even thinking. I killed myself.

I've been a ghost in the apartment I called home for almost five months. I've sat here and watched the love of my life suffer for almost five months. There is a fate worse than hell, and I'm living it. If I knew this was how I could be spending eternity I would have done things differently. I would've followed through with therapy. I would have just... talked to someone. To anyone. Instead, I have a reminder of what I left behind. What I ruined. And there's no killing yourself as a ghost.

I've watched Lucy carefully since my last day on the solid Earth. You could say I watched her carefully before then too. When you know you don't wish to be alive anymore, you plan it out carefully. You look at the one you love while they're smiling, and you know deep down that you will wipe that smile right off they're face in due time. You don't want to do that though. You just don't want to hurt. Hurt isn't always limited to one soul. It's contagious.

The last five months, Lucy has also been a ghost in her own way. She doesn't clean or wash dishes unless she has company, which could be weeks in between. She showers once a week, if she can remember on time. She'd rather stare at a wall in her free time than anything else, which is why working is so easy for her. Especially now.

I've always loved this woman, so don't take this the wrong way when I say that the day I loved her most was my first day as a spirit. There's something so meaningful in tears. Something poetic. I didn't appreciate her love for me while I was alive. It easy to think you don't really matter when I routine is built. Somedays I just felt like another building block in her life.

Lucy is washing the dishes. I wonder who's coming over. She's actually really sprucing things up. Showering, reorganizing, moving her depression pillows and blankets from the living room to her bed. She even is putting on makeup and spraying herself with sweet perfume. Maybe it's a work dinner. She used to try and talk to me when I first left. She would try to tell me about her day and things she had going on in life. The last few months she's stopped this habit. We both understand how hard it is to talk without being able to get a response.

She's cooking tonight. Lemon rosemary chicken with asparagus. She was never much of a cook before my passing, and especially after she had gone full Grubhub and Doordash. I could smell the flavors coming together. I wished I was there to try it with her. This had to be some sort of work dinner. Whoever she's serving, she wants to impress. I feel like a fool. I should be there to help her in moments like this. She shouldn't have to do everything alone.

The buzzer sounds, her special guest is here. Lucy presses the button to let her guest up. She looks amazing. A knee length black dress with a matching suede jacket. Her favorite platform Mary Janes on her feet, black tights going up her long legs. I don't remember the last time I saw her like this. Even before my death it was for her to dress herself up. Was it me who brought her down? Or did she just get comfortable? Another question with no answer.

She opens the door to a man, a few inches taller than I was on Earth. He has shaggy brown hair and is wearing a simple button down and slacks. A more casual look, but just professional looking enough to make sense for whatever business they could be discussing. Is that her boss? I honestly can't even remember what anyone she worked with was like. There's only one human alive that I think about now. She walks him to the kitchen, letting him know dinner will be done in 10 minutes. He has a charming smile and tells her not to rush. He asks how her day at work was, and she answers and asks the same question back. They exchange friendly banter and laugh, and I don't hear one word about work or business.

I think back to her pumps. I think about how they're looking at each other. The new dish she's cooking. This is a date. If I still had a heart capable of beating, it would stop. I can't be mad; this is my doing. We would've gone all the way if I had gotten help. If I didn't rely on one person to make me happy, and broke if they couldn't handle the weight of my sadness anymore. She could be cooking for me and smiling if I had just gotten help. Instead, whenever she tried to do extra for me, I wouldn't react the way I should have. I would take depression naps and not hug her and tell her how much I loved her. I have no one to blame but myself.

This man, however, could be the man I could never be. He kissed her hand while speaking to her. He washed the dishes after dinner, because she cooked the meal. He brought her a nice bottle of wine, and he knew which one to get because he actually listened to her when she spoke. He does all the things I was too sad to do. Some people think watching the person you loved fall for someone else for God knows how long is some form of Hell in itself. To me, all I want in this spiritual shape is for Lucy to be happy again.