The Fighter and the Ghost

8:18 p.m.
Track: “Yearning” — Mono

…so I could try to rescue her this time.

The dream has been haunting me. Even now, I wish it had ended differently — that whatever force controlled it had taken her to shore, let her walk home. I would have taken her place without hesitation.

I can’t imagine leaving someone behind. Not even her.

I want to re-dream it — to make sure I get her out this time. My subconscious has saved others before: my parents, Ed, Edmond. But not Chloe. She stayed behind. I can’t shake that.

I know what it feels like to be trapped — to not know what comes next — and because I know that feeling, I can’t wish it on anyone I once loved.

I’ve had these dreams before, long before her. In every one, people I cared for were trapped — in caves, ruins, collapsing cities. Someone had to take the risk to save the rest. And I always did. I always got them out. Never myself, but never truly lost either. The dreams always ended with me wandering — searching, surviving, until I found the trail home.

When she entered my life, she entered those dreams too. And no matter how bad things became between us, I always saved her.

Until last night.

This time, she stayed behind. And I can’t let that go.

I once asked myself: Would it be harder to lose someone to another person or to death? I’ve decided. I’d rather lose her to someone else — because at least then, she’s alive. If she’d died while still loving me, that loss would have shattered me. But she never loved me the way I loved her. If I had died, she would have moved on without hesitation.

That’s the difference between us. I hold on; she forgets.

My mother once said my greatest flaw is memory — that I carry too much of the past. But she also said it’s my strength: that my vengeance is slow but my loyalty is eternal. I think she was right.

Chloe’s friends probably believe I blame her for everything. I don’t. But this — this I can’t absolve. Every time we broke up, she wanted me to stay. She wanted to keep me close, like a pet memory she could control, while her friends and family remained in the dark. Since she never told them, I became the villain by default.

We could never be friends. Not after that.

I remember our last time together — March 25th. Things were heating up, and she asked, half-joking, “Would this be cheating, since I’ve been thinking about someone else?” Then she laughed.

I didn’t. Because I already knew.

I knew about the other men. The woman. The lies. And even knowing, I still touched her. Because love, in its purest form, isn’t clean — it’s loyalty in the face of betrayal.

For all her flaws, for all the ways she doesn’t deserve my protection, I still can’t wish her harm. She would abandon me without hesitation, but I could never abandon her.

She once said, “You’re a fighter. He’s a lover.”

Lovers don’t last long on battlefields.

I’ve fought greater wars. My instincts are sharper now. And if she and her new lover think they can walk through life untouched, they should tread carefully.

I may not abandon people.
But I never forget.

8:48 p.m.