Unacknowledged Presence

These rooms with closed windows and a gust of wind. These halls with flickering lights. We’ve been cultured to fear the unknown. We’ve been cultured to assume the worst of strangers. But everyone and everything is simply trying to coexist. I find comfort in your presence. More comfort in not needing to acknowledge it. No need to conjure you; you’ll arrive in due time.

With you watching over me, I will try to catch up on sleep. With you watching over me, I feel alright. Nothing more sincere than what we have. Nothing more true than this. No guaranteed future. All we have is this moment. Words would cheapen it. You’re there. I’m here. Humanity has twisted the definition of “company” to add unnecessary pressure.

You’ve existed since time immemorial. Maybe that’s why we co-habitat like an old couple. Through the honey moon phase. Through the fighting. We’ve found our footing. All the things you used to do that rubbed me wrong and my many faux pas have become comfortingly familiar. The chill on my neck tells me you’re close by. No point in speaking. You know I appreciate you. I know you’re happy to haunt someone like me.

Some people tell their friends. Some people call exorcists. I have no reason to bring attention to a perfectly comfortable situation. When you wail, I let you wail. When the time is right, I’ll fog up a mirror and wait to watch what your finger draws across it. But most days, you’re there; I’m here. We both know it. Why waste words?