To Drink Coffee With a Ghost Read online

  - the conjuring.

  without you

  i’m not

  quite sure

  who the fuck

  i’m supposed

  to be.

  - dependent.

  in all

  the history

  of the world

  no one has ever

  been able to

  teach others

  how to fill the hole

  a dead parent

  leaves.

  - impossibilities.

  i cannot fight my way through these fucking shadows on my own.

  - no light, no sun.

  i only

  find myself

  kissing boys

  who love

  to make

  monsters

  out of

  girls.

  - a guide on how to self-destruct.

  my lovers know i’m bad luck. when they sneak back home, they throw sea salt over their shoulders with one hand as they call their girlfriends with the other. they say, oh honey, i lost track of time. they say, oh sweetheart, i missed you so much. they say, oh beautiful, don’t worry about her. she’s no one. she’s nothing at all.

  - they were right.

  tell me

  you love me

  even if

  you have to

  cross your fingers

  behind your back

  while you

  do it.

  - i don’t mind being lied to, baby.

  there

  was not

  a single kiss

  from my

  lips

  that was

  not laced

  with

  devastation.

  - my lovers in reverse.

  i always believed that if i was able to make them stay, they would make me forget every bad thing that ever happened to me. they always told me that they would rescue me from myself & i was foolish enough to believe them.

  - bittersweet.

  i keep searching for a mother in every woman i meet, but if i’m being honest, i wouldn’t even begin to know what it is i’m supposed to be looking for.

  - which parts make up a mother?

  they said to me,

  you can’t be angry at your mother. you can’t be angry at your sick mother. you can’t be angry at your dead mother. you can’t be angry.

  i wanted to take the floor & scream,

  my trauma doesn’t get wiped away just because it’s inconvenient for you to love someone who was also capable of causing others pain.

  - hard feelings.

  your

  comfort

  is not

  more

  important

  than

  my journey

  to

  healing.

  - i will never live a life of quiet again.

  i

  remember

  hearing

  somewhere

  that

  once

  you’ve heard

  your

  mother’s

  voice,

  you’re

  never (ever)

  able

  to forget it

  again.

  i’ve

  already

  started

  forgetting

  yours.

  - i don’t want to think about what’s next.

  people keep asking me if i love you or hate you. the answer has never been as simple as yes or no. of course i love you, but i hate so much of what you did.

  - tug of war.

  my therapist believes in ghosts & she thinks you might be haunting me. she tells me to wait until the house is completely empty. she tells me to light a candle. she tells me to wish you well but wish you gone. i don’t tell her this, but i light no candle. i cast no protective circle. instead, i walk around the house in a towel screaming,

  why won’t you go?

  you can’t hold me back.

  i’m allowed to move on.

  you can’t live through me.

  let me be happy for once.

  leave.

  leave.

  leave.

  - the cleansing.

  how do you keep on living after the worst imaginable thing happens to you? there is no easy answer—no steps 1, 2, & 3. i just remember waking up one day & deciding that i would try to remember that even though rainstorms are completely unavoidable, sun-showers exist, too. whenever it feels like your world is crashing down all around you, the sun will always be there to warm you between the wrath of the storm.

  - sun-showers.

  i realize now

  you were

  never

  haunting

  me.

  - you were just keeping me company.

  you carried

  your demons

  & you tried

  your best to

  shoulder

  mine, too.

  yours were

  just

  too heavy

  a burden

  to take on

  the load.

  - with age comes wisdom.

  grief is a funny thing. for years, it made me forget that fairy tales existed. then one day, i remembered. just like that, everything was enchanted mirrors & talking clocks again. from then on, i simply couldn’t get my fill of them; it was as if i was learning to read all over again. books became magick in my hands—the same magick you always told me i had. you were right all along: some things don’t come alive until we believe in them with our whole hearts.

  - never will i forget again.

  eventually,

  the rain just

  sounds like

  rain—

  like

  getting comfy

  with a

  good book

  beneath

  a pile of cats

  while holding

  a cup of coffee.

  none of it is sad.

  not once do i

  picture you

  beside me.

  i’m alone,

  & for the first time,

  i’m okay with

  being alone.

  - because you’re never truly alone with a book.

  i don’t necessarily think you should have to forgive those who have mistreated you in the most life-defining ways. forgiveness is something sacred. however, i would like to think i could forgive you, if given the opportunity. i would like to think you would give me reason to.

  - here’s hoping.

  i can

  no longer

  focus on

  everything

  i’ve lost.

  no matter

  how many times

  i hit replay,

  i can’t change

  anything.

  i vow to focus

  on whatever else

  the universe

  has in store

  for me.

  - my six of cups reversed.

  to

  underestimate

  women

  is bad enough

  by itself,

  but

  i imagine

  anyone

  who does

  must not know

  many sisters.

  - together, we are strong as hell.

  we are exactly the same & yet somehow exactly different. i am the introvert to your extrovert. we both love ketchup on everything we eat. i hate to cry in front of people, whereas you cry tears of fearlessness
. we have the same favorite band. whenever one of us feels compelled to crumble, the other distracts the rest of the world while she slowly rebuilds, stone by heavy stone.

  -this has always been the secret to our survival.

  we

  have

  the same

  numb toe.

  we

  have

  the same

  lump on our heads.

  we

  have

  the same

  roaring laugh.

  we

  even

  have

  the same

  hard-to-swallow

  memories.

  - how could i not love you?

  when i think

  of my life

  without a sister,

  i suddenly

  understand

  what they mean

  when they say

  people can die

  from broken

  hearts.

  - the worst tragedy of all.

  the only way i found relief in this grieving was to plant gravestones everywhere my feet treaded. the first time they leaned in to kiss me, i hesitated. they were far too perfect—far too alive—to become a haunted, hunted thing like i was.

  - selfishly, i kissed them anyway.

  my gods,

  you shine

  so brightly

  i can’t even

  look at you

  straight

  on.

  - striking.

  “give me space to heal,”

  i asked of them.

  - the courage i never felt before.

  “you don’t even need to ask,”

  they replied.

  - the respect i’d never been shown.

  they do not pretend to deserve me; better yet, they do not even pretend that they can save me. they do not view me as a broken, feathered thing they can mend up if they scoop me into their hands & show me enough attention. in time, they know that i will stretch across the skies again, but not before i’m ready.

  - not before i mend my own wing.

  for the first time, i will allow myself to believe that the best can & will happen to me, instead of the worst.

  - life doesn’t have to be a horror show.

  they proved

  to me

  that sometimes—

  just sometimes—

  people do not

  leave.

  - my reliable forever.

  no one

  has to

  understand

  what we are

  as long as

  we do.

  - we’re the only thing that matters.

  i would carve silly faces

  into pumpkins

  with you.

  - how i say “i love you.”

  i would drink

  all the bad coffee

  with you.

  - how i say “i love you” II.

  &

  i don’t think

  i would mind

  spending

  the rest

  of our lives

  sitting

  on the floor,

  eating

  crappy pizza

  on top of

  moving boxes

  we

  never

  end up

  unpacking.

  - because i would have you.

  they all

  want to

  know why

  i call you

  my sun-heart.

  - it’s because you cast a shadow nowhere.

  in this story, they do not leave even though things are difficult at times. they are gentler with my heart than any who came before them & any who would dare to come after in the next life. if you want to know what kind of person they are, i should tell you that the first time they took me to the water, we spent the entire time rescuing ladybugs from being pulled out with the current.

  - you left me in life-saving hands.

  i unlearn

  the idea

  that

  it’s normal

  to fear

  the drive

  home

  when

  they’re

  the one

  i’m driving

  home to

  at the end

  of the

  day.

  - no small feat.

  i thought

  no one

  could know me

  without

  knowing where

  i got my love

  for coffee creamer

  or halloween,

  but they’re

  doing just

  fine.

  - i’ve always been whole on my own.

  despite her fears, my sister asks me to read her cards. the first thing she asks them is if you regret what you did to us & the card practically flies out. this time, i don’t even bother looking up the meaning; no book could possibly understand. it’s the definition of defeat. it’s regret. it’s guilt. it’s wishing that you could have fixed what happened while you were still alive to do it. it’s knowing that you’ll never be able to. it’s everything we wanted to hear & somehow— somehow, it’s enough & not enough all at the same time.

  - our five of swords.

  i have my own white kitchen table now. it’s not little; it’s the size of an entire lifetime left to live. it’s never a place of fear, judgment, or silencing. at this table, i’ve shared coffee & quiet truths with my love. at this table, i’ve shared meals & laughter with friends & family. at this table, i have imagined stories with princesses who save themselves, witches who never burn, & mermaids who remember their voices. no matter what happens, i will never allow my kitchen table to be anything but a place where love & healing thrives.

  - the letter i cannot send.

  i picked up my entire life & moved into a small apartment by the very stretch of sea you wanted to be your last resting place. i’m not sure why i did it. part of it felt like this was the place i was meant to call my home, & part of it felt like it was the only place i could find you again, like the good doctor who went to find the ghost of his wife in small mountain town, colorado.

  i tried to turn my life into fiction & i was surprised when it didn’t work. i never found you here—i found your ghost, but not you. at least i can say it was a learning experience. i learned that i never should have built the rest of my life around the idea what could have been.

  you were never the point to my story. i am.

  as i write this, i’m once again surrounded by moving boxes. i didn’t want to leave, but i have to. the universe has made its decision without me & it has let me know that this town was never meant for you nor me. in just a few weeks, i’m moving to another town completely unmarked by you or the plans you had for me.

  i’m buying my first house & you’ll never get to see it, just like you never got to see me graduate from college or meet the love of my life or be there for my wedding. it hurt—all of it—but somehow, i survived it all. i know i can survive the rest, too, since i’ve done it so many times already.

  i’m not helpless.

  truth is, i never was.

  in the winter when all the trees are bare, i can see the ocean from the front door i call my own now. i search for you out of habit, but i don’t see a sign of you anywhere. the cold doesn’t feel so cold anymore. it’s then i accept that i was always meant to do this on my own.

  - the letter i cannot send II.

  you may or may not know this, but i had an october wedding. i wore a dress in your favorite color (red) & a f
lower crown in the most beautiful autumn colors. things have gotten much better in the years since you’ve been gone, but most days, i do not feel even a fraction beautiful. that day, i felt nothing short of a goddess.

  looking back, it feels more like a lucid dream than a memory. something ethereal, unearthly. just out of touch.

  it sounds old-fashioned, but i let dad give me away. it felt less like an exchange of property & more a moment of, “here she is. she has been through so very much in the little bit of life she has lived so far. i’m the only parent she has left, & i’m trusting you not to give her more pain than she is able to take. no—she is not breakable, but she is human, after all.”

  despite everything, i have always experienced moments in which i wished you were there beside me to experience it. that day, i didn’t have to wish for that. i felt you everywhere. in every cold breeze, in the light between the treetops.

  everywhere, i felt an apology for your absence.

  even after our angry goodbye, i knew you never left. you just went into hiding. if you’re staying because you feel guilty you’re missing out on my life, then please let me put your mind to rest: the road to forgiveness may be a long, uneven one that has no true ending, but that doesn’t lessen my love for you or my desire to finally see you at peace.

  there’s no reason for you to be afraid anymore. as frightening as the unknown can be, remember that wherever you may be going next, you will still remain in every facet of my life. we have plenty of time to drink coffee & catch up later.

  this is my lit candle.

  this is my protective circle.