Sunday, October 2, 2011

Ghosts in the Closet

We all have them. Those things or individuals we regret doing or knowing. Those things we hope people never learn about us. Those things we wish we could take back. Those individuals you wish you never gave your number to, those dates you wish you never went on. The choices you wish you could redo.

Sitting at my kitchen table I was thinking about those ghosts in my closet. One of them resurfaced not to long ago. Mr. Feel Good, you can look for him in some of my old post. To give some back story. He's the guy that I was talking to that up and disappeared on me without a trace, and then I started getting mysterious collect calls from jail. I now know that it was him calling. How you might ask? It has been two years and a few weeks ago he had his friend contact me to let him know what happened to him. I was so taken a back it took me some time to get a grasp on what/who.

So many questions swirled through my head. It made me wonder, what type of impression did I make on him to have him reach out to me after all this time? How did he still remember my phone number? Why are you in prison?

Long story short he asked me to write to Mr. Feel Good and send him a picture. Then Mr. Feel Good called me himself from jail and left me a message on my phone. (BTW, didn't know you could do that in prison. Leave messages that is.)

The great debate is do I write or do I bury the ghost back in my closet. The thing is I already wrote the letter. It is sitting in my bag, each day I say I'll mail it but I hesitate. I want my questions answered but I don't want him back in my life. I've been watching a lot of prison shows recently (I have a morbid fascination with prison, crime, addiction shows. Don't know why.) and I feel bad for him. But I'm not that girl. I don't accept collect calls, and I don't put money on accounts, and I don't date men who break the law. But my ain't no good. I can't help wanting to know if he's ok and what happened in the one day we didn't talk that got him put away.

More than that, it made me ask myself, "What is it about me that attracts men who are damaged, projects, or old, like I'm their last hope?' What do I find so intriguing about them? Why do they keep coming back, keep popping up when I think I have laid them to rest? I don't get it. Am I not attractive to those who don't have issues?

Or Is it me?

Is it me? be continued


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