Ghost

and i guess that's how you started
like a pinprick to my heart
but at this point you rush right through me
and i start to drown
-Ghost by Indigo Girls

No matter how busy you think you are or how hurt or sad you are to deal with your emotions, once in awhile, I catch myself confronting glimpses of my old life.

None more so when I was traveling up to Santa Rosa, picking up and buying a chair I find on Craigslist one Saturday morning. It was the first time I drove up that way, on Hwy 101, on my own, in my new car. The flood of memories didn't really hit me until I hit Novato, as I remembered the rolling hills of the North Bay. I remembered all the trips I took with my husband on the driver seat, going to points up north, where the Redwoods meet the Ocean. I saw cows grazing on the side of the freeway, catching myself saying "moocows" as if he was there with me. Although there was a twinge of sadness, of not being able to share a familiar moment, I felt happy. I had forgotten how beautiful the drive was up here, how somewhat calming to see hills, valleys and fields.

I sometimes feel his presence around me, even if we are no longer physical with one another. It haunts me when I'm particularly feeling vulnerable and alone. And yet, I sort of like it. Not because I long for his touch, because I haven't lost that connection somehow.

Even if we were no longer talking and hated the site of each other, I don't think I could stop the ghost of him, of us, from assaulting me from time to time. And yes, perhaps I will not be in the space to accept it. But I wouldn't want those visitations to stop. If only to remind me of some nice memories.