Dear ghost boy, every day it hurts a little less. Every day it hurts a little more.

I'm giving you a chance to surprise me. But I'm already mourning this future loss.  This past loss.

Always mourning.
Can't seem to put you down, put you away. Don't want to.

We used to be so honest with each other, and now all I do is not say and not say. But it's easy to say when things are easy, and nothing is going on. Not now, now there are worlds building in my head, all the what if's and maybes and scares and feelings. So much filling up inside me from all the not saying.

Ten years from now i'll be sitting at a diner with him having a club sandwich with sweet potato fries. Picking at my food. Not really trying. And I will say, there was a boy once. He was a boy pretending to be a man, and I was a woman pretending to be a girl. It will be true.

But will there be a 10 years from now?