Short Story: I Fell in Love with a Ghost

It started one night while I was asleep, though I first thought it just to be a dream. She came to me dressed in black with long black hair and kissed me on the lips. It seemed the usual dream of a teenager trying to escape from the loneliness that lives inside until she vanished and reappeared. My new love was a ghost and entered into my body. Amusing myself, and those around me, I began to float in the air using her spirit.

Such dreams are not unusual for me being an eighteen year old boy with a very dark and morbid mind, so I thought nothing of it but a mere reaching out in loneliness. Upon awakening to the feeling that a ghost was present, I shrugged it off as a mere remainder of the dream, although I did hold hopes that it was more then a dream, begging her to show herself to me and free me from my loneliness. As I lay awake and reached out with my mind, I was aware that it seemed rather silly but I desperately needed someone or something to believe in.

For the following nights I continued to have strange dreams that aided to my secretly growing thought that she was not just a spark in my imagination, but real. Each night the dreams became more alive and it became harder to distinct dream from reality. Dreams became so closely related to the real world that I could feel her breath upon my skin and taste her on my lips.

Though I had such longing for it to be more then fantasy I would not be so blind as to believe it was anything more then a fantasy created in my head. I knew that my imagination was often wild and would create things to make life more worth living. Several times had I tried to create someone to consistently dream of and be with during the nights, searching for something to make living not so hard. Never before had I succeeded in dreaming of an imaginary person more then once though, and every night found me in the arms of someone else in tell now.

During one of these visits to my dreams I asked her if she was real, because I knew that I was dreaming. “Yes,” she told me and said that dreams were the only place she could really communicate with me. Of course, I still found it hard to believe because my mind could just be creating the response that I wanted to hear, none the less it gave me a little bit of hope. It may seem foolish of me, but one finds it hard to hold back the slightest thought or emotion when they are dreaming even if conscience of there actions because they feel so utterly safe and in control so I told her that I loved her and I wished it was real.

Mornings became a struggle to get out of bed, even more so then before and I have never been one for getting out of bed except for the rare occasion I feel some strong excitement for getting up, which has happened on perhaps two occasions. Often during the day I began to take naps even when I was not tired at all in hopes of seeing and holding my friend. Now it was beyond the point of being just a dream and I cared not if it was real anymore, but was merely happy that something was making me happy. She was mine, and made me feel complete.

It would seem mad to explain to someone that I’d fallen in love with a ghost, but I felt a strong sense of loyalty to her as though she were real. If I went out to places and some one started to flirt with me I would try and avoid the situation and felt uncomfortable hugging other girls as though she would be jealous. When times found me scared or depressed my thoughts would go to her. There were always plenty of false memories and dreams from the night before to get me through the day as well as the new fantasies I would create in my head while awake.

Never did she tell me her name for there was no need. When we were together words were rarely spoken and it seemed we could simply understand what the other wanted and needed. At first we would spend hours every night simply holding each other in one room or another created in my mind, but over time we began to go places and do things. In dreams we could go anywhere we wanted, and do anything that we pleased. The freedom was more then words can explain and it makes me wonder why anyone would ever want to be awake.

She was everything I had ever wanted, and everything she did seemed perfect in my mind. This made me feel more that I had simply created her, because she was the embodiment of all I saw beautiful. There was a consistency in her actions and the way she was though that seemed much too complicated to have been simply created in my mind. She wasn’t just things I thought of, but things so beautiful I could not have imagined.

After awakening one night I began to beg for her again. I begged that she was real and would show me who she was. “I love you and I don’t want to be alone anymore,” I began to plea.

“I love you too,” came the unexpected reply. So sure that I had simply heard it in my head as one often does when they are very tired I began to cry. Over and over in my mind I asked why I couldn’t hold her, or kiss her. Why couldn’t I give her everything and always be by her side? It seemed unfair that I could not truly be with her.

Maybe if my tears had not been so strong and my sadness so great I would have been scared, but the next thing I knew she was sitting next to me and holding her. More of a feeling with in such as in dream came from her, though I could still feel a slight physical feeling of her comforting arms around me. Transparent as she was I could tell it took all of her strength to show herself to me, to comfort me.

Each night she grew stronger and her visits lasted longer. One day she would never have to leave and I would never cry again. As I thought of this I started to have questions of how we would make it work. Though I felt as though I loved her I did not know how to explain it to family and friends. During the nights no one was awake to be aware of her visits, but what if she all the sudden started being with me during the day? Surely it would shock people her lack of being a physical person, and it would seem odd that she simply appeared in my room for I was not living on my own at this time, but still at home.

Perhaps she felt my confusion and wanted to make life easier for me, or perhaps it had offended her that my love was not strong enough to keep me from worrying about how to explain it to other. Whatever the case was, her visits suddenly stopped and she was no longer in my dreams. Over time I began to believe it had all merely been dreams and as the months passed I started to forget about her all together. Now my nights had become as lonely as the days and I lost the comfort of remembering my dreams.

To try and get myself out of the house I decided to play guitar at a coffee shop. It had been months since playing last because I lived so far away from town, and I needed to get in the habit of playing once more if I ever planned to go anywhere with music. Calm peace consumed me as I entered the place and when I began to play it seemed as though I had entered another world or a dream. Suddenly all of my thoughts and dreams of the lovely ghost flooded my mind as if she had never left.

As I looked out into the crowd I could tell they felt the passion and love that was forming in my mind. They could have been laughing at this point though, and I wouldn’t have cared for this was my own place where nothing could hurt me. Looking out into the crowd I noticed a familiar face, and a bit of anxiety started to form in my chest as before me stood the same long black hair and the same black clothes that I had grown to love.

Such passion and emotion grew inside of me as I looked at the flesh and blood replicate of the girl I had so deeply loved. It was no surprise that I found myself staring at her, and looking away in hopes that she hadn’t noticed. A few times I could have sworn I caught her staring at me as well, and more then an audience member watches a performer. There seemed to be something more hidden in her eyes.

For the last song I began to sing one I had written for my ghost though, she had never heard it before because it was written after she left my side. The power was more then I could keep inside and as the months of loneliness began to pour through me and the pain of losing her came fourth. I began to find it hard not to cry.

Every one in the coffee shop was silent, and it seemed as though they could feel each word sang. Looking at my black haired beauty I noticed she was crying and I knew it had to be true. Seeing her tears was more then I could bear, and the intensity grew even stronger though I thought there was no possible way to feel any more passion then I already did.

After finishing the song, I stepped off the stage and walked towards her. As we looked at each other, an overwhelming joy came inside of me. Running my hands through her hair, I began to kiss away her tears. “I love you and I missed you,” I whispered in her ear.

This is how I fell in love with a ghost and brought her back to life. As I am writing this she sleeps next to me and I pray she shall never leave. Though, I cannot be certain that she will not one day vanish or that I shall wake up and realize this is but another dream, I know she shall always remain in my heart as the one who kept my soul alive.

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