The Girl Who Bit Her Lip

Not every post that pops up here will super concrete; as Transient Talk is meant to be a platform for thoughts and expression in a general sense. That being said, some posts may feel more like questions than answers. That will probably wind up being the case with this post.

This is my open letter to the girl who bit her lip.

Hey, it’s The Ghost:

You found me. Not the other way around. I constantly feel guilty for skulking about as a single person trying to stay “emotionally open” to new encounters, when I know sure and well that my steps are a bit more aggressive than just “openness.” I feel a bit like a predator sometimes when I’m at my worst, like I am some carnivore.

But you hunted me. You called me when you drank too much. You sent me pictures of your family. You took off your clothes because that’s what you wanted. There were things you wanted me to see and know, and when I said that you were so different, you bit your lip.

You drove from hours away just to walk downtown with me. Then we kissed, and before you left, you promised that it would happen again. It didn’t though. We spoke twice after that. Now, you pop into my head when I hear someone with a country drawl, when I see sangria in the store, when I smell basil.

You feel like a ghost now, which isn’t really fair all things considered. I told you this, and I still stand by it. After the shit storm of the divorce, you were and are the first person who made me feel something, but you slipped through a crack in space. I’m not even for sure how. Maybe it was something I did or didn’t do. I don’t even have the luxury to ask you though.

The last time we spoke, you said that you weren’t talking to any of your friends because of how stressed you are. That’s understandable, but if you ever read this (which I know you won’t), you can always talk to me.

I just miss who you are, and I think I will hold onto that the ambient melancholy that surrounds those memories if nothing else than to remind myself of those times when I felt something real.

I’m proud of you, even from a distance. Your indomitable spirit is your finest quality, because you always knew how to marry it with your own brand of thoughtful grace. You’ll figure all of this out, and one day, I’ll google Buzzed Cuts. You’ll be in the first picture with those fancy clippers that you like and a cocktail that’s too sweet for me to drink.

I just wish you knew that you always have someone in your corner.

Always, The Ghost.

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