We all have them, it's just that nobody speaks of them, openly at least. I choose to sell my secrets to my keyboard instead of admitting them through speech. At least with writing, you can erase, re-write, cross it out, and hit backspace when life gets too difficult.
You can call them what you'd like, ghosts, demons, memories. It could be anything. The scent of a lilac that sends you into a frenzy. One chord on the guitar that shoots you through time. One word that brings it all back.
So while I was trying to see down the street, the sun was trying to peer through the clouds and I couldn't quite see his face. It was the guitar strapped to his back like an extra appendage that caught my attention first. Inevitably as always, the sun found its way back into its hiding place behind the clouds and the raindrops started to fall once more. I could see a little bit clearer.
My ghost, my demon, my eternal temptation. Those hands that I wrote of endlessly, thought of constantly. That guitar that emanted such beauty through sound. That voice that resonated in my head throughout my two years of solitude and distractions. Nothing had ever filtered its way through my brain as a sieve does. Nobody had ever walked into my life the way he had, and walked away with such ease. I had been in awe when he had left.
Our demons have a way of catching us in nets, and strangling the truth from us at the worst of possible opportunities. These ghosts are tangible and all of a sudden within my reach.
I could have said hello. I could have asked to hear him play his guitar one last time and stared in envy at those hands for the last time in my life. I could have done anything.
Two years is how long it can take before you are face-to-face with the demons you once called love. Two years of prose, poetry, trying to strengthen your callouses enough so that the pain goes away for a little while at least. Two years before you get a little bit more of stability in your life.
Demons. Ghosts. Temptations. These are the things that can save or ruin your life.
I hid my face as he walked by.