I imagined this conversation in my mind this morning. The young lady who I had this conversation with no longer hangs out in my life, but her ghost, and the ghosts of many others that came before and after her, linger occasionally and haunt me. This is not always a bad thing. This is not always a good thing.

“Didja hear about Notre Dame’s Manti Te’o?”

“Are you asking me was our relationship like that?” I asked her.

“Am I?” ..or perhaps she asked me. This conversation might work either way.

“Wouldn’t you know?”

“Why don’t you tell me?”

“What do you think?”

“Maybe I don’t believe in love anymore?”

“Maybe you never did, which is why I left you?”

“What if all my relationships, both online and offline, have been like that?”

“If that’s so, you were still the only common denominator.”

“Statement. Not a question. Fifteen love.”

“..Touche.”

“En garde.”

To any of the ladies
in my past who
might somehow see these words,
you may believe
if you wish but
twas one of the other girls
who haunted me
yesterday
in this old rundown shotgun shack.
you let me go
and i want you to know
you don’t need to keep coming back.

Really.

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