Ghost

I stopped writhing. The ocean tossed me out and I feel like I’m laying on a deserted beach secured. Tightly bound ropes hold me down. Even as I renew my commitment to journal my thoughts and feelings, I can see the word rope and scream inside. It hurts my throat. I pant; broken and hoping to see a glimmer of the fading sun. The tide still comes in, rocks me, like a Siren she screams for me to return to the depths of despair that I now hold inside me. I can’t go in. I can’t cry anymore because it hurts too much. I can’t get the ropes off, they burn now. I am still.

But, I see my efforts all around me. I see the glimmer of crystals. Did they really help me or maybe I was lying to myself to think that I could be healed with a divine magical rock or rocks. I see the cards strewn on the beach, the foretelling of the nothing. Yes, I see your god. Ask “Him” for help. To save me. Now, I’m writhing. Now, I’m screaming. “Why didn’t your god save her? Why didn’t I know? Why do you allow people to feel so deeply for our children that we’re forever broken? I don’t want this!” The ropes cut into my flesh as they rub and my fingers dig deep into the sand. I’m panting, still looking.

Photos of her. Photos of my family, even my sister missing from this Earth. Why? This is just life. I see my son and the people I love in the photos and feel love for them. Sorry for them because we share this pain. I see the phone and hope it dies. I don’t want it anymore. I tried to replace her with love for others and mostly her friends and I didn’t understand. Remember? I was drowning, grasping at the water, screaming from my burning throat. Why isn’t it enough? Why am I not enough so they, the tiny few who love me, can have what I could have given. I don’t remember what that was, now.

I close my eyes and I still can’t cry, can’t move. I hear the waves and think of the beach we used to visit. I don’t want to see a beach again. Just this one. This is the one in which I almost drown. Remember that night that I tried to choke myself? It hurt too much and I drank too much and I cried and screamed but I stayed. I stayed for everyone else.

I stayed because I thought she’d stay with me. I see her standing in the tide but is she? Is this some kind of sick joke? Did she reincarnate? Is she in heaven with my sister? Is she inside my soul, are we together and I don’t know it? She’s a ghost. 

I had to stop believing in ghosts.

I can wiggle my legs free. I look and she’s gone. She’s been gone and she is never coming back. I looked for signs a long time ago or maybe a few days ago. I looked for signs in the woods: turtles, hummingbirds, butterflies, a random light bulb popping. It’s her. She’s here. I can touch her. I can’t talk to her. I can’t hold her. There is nothing to hold. She is ashes. They burned her body. I can’t chase a ghost anymore.

I kept looking everywhere; one year, two years…no words of wisdom, no daughter of mine to appear magically. How is it possible to let that go, to let her go without screaming. The Sirens are deafening my ears and I want to pull my hair out. I didn’t ask for this. I thought I would be okay and maybe one day I will.

I’m sitting up now. The ropes left marks but I can hear the waves crashing. I know I have to go back in there, into the black. I must heal. I read that you’re no good to anyone if you’re not good to yourself. That’s a classic. I’m only here because of everyone else. I don’t care about my Self. I don’t want to change my beliefs. I don’t want to sit on this beach. What time is it, anyway? I’m sure there’s someone somewhere who knows.

As I stand, a sea turtle lopes and claws to her nest. I see her. The photos are blowing in the wind, the crystals have sunk to be found by someone else. The turtle is a mother. She’s alive. She’s a miracle to me. She’s fascinating. How did she grow without being eaten? How did she survive the holes visitors scrape out of the sand to build their castles? How does she know she must leave the nest and what if her babies don’t make it be a mother like her? My heart is racing, again. I’m spinning my abrasive ropes into stories that become nightmares.

No one wants to hear my screams so I scream inside. No one wants to talk to me about what happened so I can prove my insane guilt or some need to convince them that it wasn’t their fault? I didn’t realize I was walking. The waves have calmed. The moon is high. They will be here for millions of years after I die. I don’t realize I’m walking into the ocean alone. You’re a ghost. I dive into the warm water, trying to convince myself that one day, one day I will stop looking for you, Taylor. I’ll stop glancing at the ashes that remind me. I can’t chase what I can’t see. I have no faith in anything except the love I hold for the people here who need me. Do you really need me? Or, maybe you need the ghost I've become.