I've been having quite a few conversations with your ghost lately.

You're still alive, but it's your memory-
your essence of presence that still haunts me.

Last month we talked about the park we used to meet at during the summer of 2012. (I think I can't remember the dates of us anymore) I used to always get there first because I lived right down the road.
You've been telling me to go there but I can't bring myself to take the drive because I know I'll just end up sitting on the bench alone.

Last week, you told me you never meant to hurt me, but there was just too many factors plotting against us.
There was never enough time, my mother couldn't stand the sight of you, and we were just too different. I held my tongue as you said these things because you again failed to mention the truth.

You had fallen out of love with me way before I even realized it.

Last night was the most recent discussion we've had.
I reluctantly confessed to still having the note you had written me on our one year anniversary. We were in high school. The only reason I remember that is because I remember the notebook you used to write to me in. (I didn't tell you that part though).   I also told you I almost burned it the other day, but that I wasn't ready to face that flame yet.

Your response to that was something I didn't expect.

You told me that it should have been you cleaning up the shards of glass you used to pierce my heart with. You know, instead of forcing me to apologize once again for leaving blood stains on your clothes.

But I haven't said anything back to you yet.
Because you are a ghost and this isn't real.

The bottom line is that...we just don't know each other anymore.