I've been thinking a lot about ghosts since Amelie died. I don't believe in them, or anything supernatural, but I can see why people do. I've never lost anyone close to me like that, and the way habit and memories haunt you is quite real. It definitely feels like something you could call a ghost.

The small, familiar noises, the shadows and shapes at the edge of your peripheral vision, thinking you've seen things you know couldn't be there. The immense comfort of being with them again, however fleeting, and that emptiness when you realise the mistake. Then they're gone again before you even register what was happening. Like waking from a glorious dream to the cruel realisation that none of it was real.

Feeling fresh guilt at wishing it would end because my hopes raising and crashing seems to serve no purpose other than to hurt me. Simultaneously knowing that when I'm done mourning, the ghosts will leave, and that's when she's really gone.