I’m sorry that you said you wouldn’t leave. I realize it was probably my fault, expecting you to keep your promise. Your promises were always ghosts in the wind. Just like that they were gone. I think I always sort of knew that. I’m picturing a scene, of a house on a hilltop. How strange it is that we had a house but not a home. How strange that it was a few pieces of plywood held together with nails. Yet this is what we turned to for haven. I think the nails would have better served holding us together instead. The screeching across the blackboard seems a good representation of your love. I don’t think I’ll miss you. I hope I won’t. If one day my heart begins to ache for you I will come back here. If ever I need to remember why I loved you this is where I will return. These hallow walls hold the stories of the time when all appeared right. And how it appeared was much more important than the way things actually were. I trust these walls more than I ever trusted you. Ghosts are real. I know because you are one. I’m sorry I didn’t realize in the beginning.


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