It was a very unfortunate day, the day that I realized you were not only out of reach, but you were moving the way ghosts do – we don’t see them, and can’t hear them. You were so used to being as light as air, to your silence echoing around you, that intense ringing in your ears. It could only be deafening to those who did not understand it. And that’s when it hit me: we spoke the same language. And you were a ghost I could see. I saw you so clearly, so forcefully that I wanted to borrow your magical hands to paint you on one of your canvases.

The colors would pour you, all over the white space, that white space that you craved. But those around you, they didn’t understand it. How could someone so strong be simultaneously fragile? You wanted freedom, you wanted power, and they tried to offer it to you, gold-plated with your name on it. They swore you wouldn’t need anything else, you would be safe, you would be secure, and there was nothing to be afraid of. Did they know that while you listened to the silence, you spoke to your demons? You whispered that you needed to stay…to stay yourself. It was slowly withering away, this sense of self, this you that you had been so sure of. There were fragments of your soul, pieces of yourself, memories of your body, left everywhere. It started when you were so young. Betrayal. The closest person to you, your safety net, kicked you out of her womb. And then came the savior, who reminded you that people fall out of love with you too. And it was nothing that you had done, it was not your fault. You realized that things fall apart, no matter how tightly you try to hold them together. You plunged deeper into your world, into depths that they could no longer reach. And yet they were all under the illusion that they built you a home.

But I saw beauty. It was a beauty I had not come across before and it demanded attention. It required a moment of silence – it seemed to have been buried a long time ago. Yet there was that flicker of life in your piercing eyes, and even my impenetrable soul stopped and looked at you – and I just knew. I heard the untold stories, the unspoken fears, and the confusion. And I refrained from touching your hand, afraid that I would touch air, and I would come back to a reality that reminded me of the impossibility of a union with a Ghost.