Ghost in the Rain

Going across the fields where you spent your whole life in, to reach the other side.

Unnerved. Unease. Butterflies in your stomach. Cold sweat. Anxious.

Skepticism aside, moving outside your comfort zone is really hard, but the benefits often outweigh your irrational fears. After all, we cannot stay at one place forever. Only the dead has the privilege for that.

We are alive, and by changing our scenery, our personality, carving new memories, we know that we are still alive and well. The warm beating hearts inside our chests, they work hard to keep us from rotting away.

I am a ghost. Nowhere to go, nowhere to return to. I'll just carry on forward, to the dream that lay broken years ago. The ruins of the future. A graveyard for a past that struggled to change its destiny. I wonder what's the suitable epitaph for it.

Diversify your way of thinking, and you'll be fine.

With every passing week, I am moving further from the past that I used to latch on so much. It hurts a little bit, but it will hurt worse if I keep reliving the lost moments of happiness. I need to stop looking back. I can do this. I'll keep on living.

With the knife in hand sharpened, I want to dig deep into my own flesh and rip away the splinters that are lodged deep inside. The remains of the one that has gone. I worked hard to integrate it to my every being, and now I need it gone.

I'll hold my own funeral for it. No need for fancy ceremonies. If I can watch all burn away, I will do that. Let the ashes scatter in the wind.

Goodbye forever.