Ghost.

I can best describe it as a ghost passing through me.

Now I know what you’re probably thinking:

This girl gone bat shi* crazy.

But I’m not, because this isn’t about just any ghost.

No.

It’s about me.

A ghost of me past.

You’re likely still confused.

This girl legit gone bat shi* crazy.

But I’m telling you, it does make sense. So let me set up an example of my supernatural experience.

See recently, I’ve been spending a lot of time with a gem.

(no not a rock, though that thought isn’t too far out of the question)

Unlike any other man I’ve been with, this gem is kind, thoughtful, and incredibly sweet.

Where once before I would’ve lavishly shared every minute detail of my dates, gossiping over little nuances, asking for advice, and overthinking myself into oblivion, I now feel grounded and comfortable exploring this relationship in my own private way.

(it helps that the guy is an actual gem and there’s nothing to gossip and obsess over)

So where does the ghost of me past come in?

See, for the past year, I’ve been seeing my therapist working on managing my emotions and tackling my anxiety. With all the work I've been doing, like learning to calm down, using my voice, setting boundaries, recognizing when I start romanticizing and fantasizing, and living with my emotional extremes, I’ve started experiencing these encounters with this ghost of me past.

It’s like a shudder, a feeling, a remembrance of how I once might’ve reacted to something. It passes through me and I feel almost nostalgic for how much I’ve grown, as I acknowledge how I used to react, and yet at the same time, choose this healthier way to respond.

He doesn’t text me back promptly?

Ghost of me past flutters through, and I actually feel this sensation of what I would’ve done a year ago:

Turned my phone onto airplane mode. Deleted his number. Thrown myself a pity party. Plugged in my sad and alone playlist. Texted all my friends that I’ve been ghosted. Wandered down that path of believing I was truly man repellant, wondering what was wrong with me.

But now, I simply accept that he’s probably busy and have trust and faith that he’ll text back.

Which he always does.

While I really fancy this genuine gem, I also can’t ignore this feeling, this stirring of growth within me.

I can’t shut my eyes to this meeting of old and new me, and the brave choice I’m consciously making to react better.

Things have a way of working out, and the timing of this relationship coupled with my self-discovery is, in all honesty, beautiful.

Or I guess, since we’re on the subject of ghosts, I should say bootiful.