A Pair of Ghosts

After I finished brushing my teeth with the little bit of paste I had put on my fingertip, I realized I didn’t want to sleep naked. So I nudged the door open a crack and yelled at him,

“Toni, can you pass me something to wear, please?”

He came near the door and smirked.

“I don’t think so.”

He grabbed me and took me to the bed. When he started kissing my body from head to toe, I shook my head no. It was a proud moment for me, as I had always struggled to say no, but we had been making love since I entered his house a couple of hours ago. My body simply couldn’t handle it anymore.

Even though he respected my choice to stop and finally sleep, he didn’t allow me to wear anything. Then something happened. It was such a small thing that the verb to happen felt absurd. He asked whether I preferred to sleep with the curtains open or drawn. One of the reasons I hate sleeping with men is always the darkness in the morning. I want to feel the sun touching my skin. No man before him had ever asked me what I preferred. They all trapped me in the gloom.

I stuttered a little bit but then said,

“I don’t really care — I cared a lot. Please do whatever you usually do.”

He kept the curtains open.

He came to bed, gave me a very lustful goodnight kiss, and kept the curtains open.

After a few moments of silence, he started to snore. I always feel very happy when I hear snoring. It means I can feel free to sleep and not worry about making a sound. Also, I was glad that he felt at peace and had fallen asleep. It meant he trusted me somehow.

The hope his snoring gave me started to perish over time. It was happening again — I would be up all night. I decided to watch him. Maybe his beauty could distract me from my thoughts. The most disturbing thing about his appearance was the fact that he kind of looked like my dad. Short black hair, a sharp face, a stubble beard, and lots and lots of body hair. Also, just like him, he was unable to spend a single minute of free time without feeling guilty. I hated that about him.

“Maybe he reminds you how useless you are,” said my father from across the room.

“Maybe I can actually stand myself, and I don’t have to keep escaping from being me all the time.”

Our relationship was never special. It was actually one of the most typical, most boring father-daughter interactions. As he was always working, I didn’t have much time to fight with him when I was younger. When we did spend time together, it was usually watching a movie or doing something that didn’t require talking much. It was better this way because when we actually communicated, we always ended up saying the most hurtful things to each other.

I could see that he was getting angry.

“Would you look forward to coming home if you were me? Let’s say I didn’t have that many things to do — then what? Was I supposed to spend my time with two freakish women who just sat on their asses all day, constantly complaining?”

“You could have tried asking what was wrong. Maybe then those two freaks would have stopped crying and actually told you why they were complaining.”

“Just like your mother, you never realize you are the problem. Guess what — that’s why no one likes you, and if you don’t change, no one ever will.”

His ghost’s presence slipped away, and in its absence, I felt an emptiness more vivid than its haunting. His last sentence echoed in my head.

It was my first year of university. I was back home for the Christmas holiday. During dinner, I mentioned that I couldn’t celebrate my birthday because I didn’t know anyone yet. That’s when he said that.

The biggest lie I always tell is how meaningless birthdays are for me. What could be a better occasion to celebrate, if not the day you became alive? When I say that, I get labeled as ‘spoiled’ or ‘narcissistic.’ That is why I stopped celebrating.

I lied. That is not why I stopped celebrating. I’m just so done with the disappointment. The calls you wait for, the gifts you hope for, or even a little piece of cake with candles on it… If they never come, why would I have any expectations?

This is just like why I don’t want to be in a relationship anymore. I don’t even crave one. Expectations ruin everything. I don’t want to check my phone every second to see if someone’s unbothered son has texted me good morning. I don’t want to apologize to a crying boy after I yelled at him for doing something I’d asked him not to a million times.

I lied again. That is not why I stopped craving love. I stopped because I had it before. After the greatest love story of all time, I couldn’t go back to asking people their favorite movie. I looked at Toni. He didn’t deserve to live in the shadow of a ghost. He didn’t know that I had locked my heart away a long time ago.

“He doesn’t deserve this,” Bill whispered. He was sitting on the edge of the bed. “It’s time to release me.”

When I saw him, I wanted to cry, but I was afraid I would wake Toni up.

“But I can’t. I still love you.”

“You were the one who wanted to break up.”

“Yes, because I moved to another country. How could I believe you would come with me? You didn’t have a degree, you didn’t have a job, you didn’t even speak French. Did you really plan a future with me in France?”

“You can’t lie to me. Maybe you can lie to my face, but not here — not tonight. Here, I know everything. You were bored of me. Just like you’re bored of everyone, you were simply bored of me.”

“At first, yes. Later, I could have just asked you. I know you still love me. You are the only one who loves me. Besides, what do you want me to do? Just forget about everything and move on?”

“Just snap out of it. Give this poor guy a chance. You can’t have me anymore. It’s too late. Stop driving people away and pretending it’s their fault.”

I was once again alone with my date’s sleeping corpse. The first rays of morning were slowly spilling into the room. I stood up very quietly and went to the bathroom. I picked up my purse and took out my makeup bag. I always try to get refreshed before the man I slept with wakes up. After I put my natural look on, I returned to bed and kissed him very softly.

“How do you look so beautiful when you wake up?” he asked as he opened his eyes and smiled.

We spent a little time together in bed. He prepared me breakfast. He kissed me goodbye and said he would call me.

I never saw him again.