Ghost of '79

 What person in your life knows you best, and how did you meet?

She was always there.

Before I even bought the old place back in '79, she was floating around, lowering property values.

Nobody likes living in a haunted house. Unfortunately, nobody told me about her. I thought I was getting a great deal! I sank all of my money into the fixer-upper, planning to make it into a home.

Those first several weeks were Hell. My things were often thrown around at all times of the day. Any repairs to the house were undone by morning. My dreams were invaded by nightmarish images.

But I couldn't leave. I had nowhere else to go.

Then my life outside the house collapsed. My car broke down. I lost my job. My best friend passed away. It was all too sudden.

I didn't know what to do. I spent hours of days just staring at walls.

At some point, I started talking. I don't know if I was talking to myself, the wall, or the ghost herself. Words rolled out of my mouth. My worries needed an escape.

I complained and cried for about thirty minutes before giving up and going to sleep. It was a mercifully dreamless sleep.

The next night, after another unsuccessful day of job hunting, I once again spoke out into the ether. I went to bed, and I dreamed.

I saw her. At least, I thought I did. In my dreams. Much like I did, she started talking. Maybe not directly to me, but airing her complaints into the void.

It was cathartic, and became a habit. I would complain to her before bed, and she would complain to me in my dreams. Eventually, our talks became less negative and more conversational. We learned more about each other, and could even be considered friends. The destructive events around the house ceased, and I finally felt at home.

Life was still hard, don't get me wrong. I was still jobless, and struggling to pay the bills. But my old friend shows that it could be worse. She's dead.

(written 2021 January 1)