Ghost Protocol: Reclaiming People, Places & Things
Or trying to!
I’m pulling a partially bi-coastal girly move and hanging out in New York for the month. Lucky to have a home base with family that I LOVE. In a way it’s running away, and in another way it’s trying to run towards myself.
BUT going to places you’ve previously gone together is weird…
It’s like triggering Ghost Protocol. One second you’re walking by Lombardi’s, and the next you’re completely shutting down by the haunting memory of your hot Swedish model boyfriend eating there with you.
Lately, I’ve been going back to all these places I once loved (still love) except now I’m going. But not with a partner. And it’s strange. Familiar but not. I’m at a different stage of my life, but these places haven’t changed. My life has. And in some ways, not by my choice.
There’s this weird emotional vertigo that happens when you find yourself in a restaurant you once brought someone to, someone you thought would stick. You sit at the same table, order the same food, but everything hits differently. Like walking through your own memory. Not able to escape or separate.
They say be present, be where your feet are.
Okay, but what if your feet are in that same restaurant you brought your Swedish ex to? The one you were planning to furnish a Stockholm apartment with? The one who submitted your visa paperwork to the Swedish Government so you could be common law married? All this before he broke up with you one week later on Facebook Messenger without a single explanation?
Or what if your feet are walking on Prince Street, past the outdoor art vendor who previously sold your former partner a drawing you loved so much so he could gift it to you. You started chatting up the vendor, only to have him recognize you and ask where your boyfriend is?
Hi, hello…haunted! Can not escape!
And now maybe you’re thinking, well, you could just go home.
Sure. Technically true. Except that’s also worse.
Home is where we built a… home.
It’s where my hometown is, his hometown. Some high school friends are also his friends. Our favorite restaurants are still right there, just sitting there like nothing happened. I avoid the places I know he’ll be, and also don’t want to avoid them because what if he is there?
He’s unfortunately everywhere. Still.
Don’t believe me? Think it’s just of my own making?
Case in point:
I went to a dinner party in December. I only knew my sister. I was chatting up a guy…yes, even in my pain, I was still excited to meet someone new! And surprise: he works at the same company as my former partner. AND knows him!
This is what I mean by Ghost Protocol. They sneak up on you. They shut you down whether you like it or not.
And yeah, okay.. I lived in New York way after the Swedish one, and way before the other. But these memories? They’re sticky. They hang around.
They remind me of where I thought I’d be by now. What I wanted. What I didn’t get. What was taken away from me without my choosing.
So yes, I’m going back to the same places.
And yes, it’s weird. And yes, I’m still haunted.
But strangely, it’s also mine. Again.
It was mine before, and it’s mine after.
Even if the ghosts are still lurking in corners, stealing bites of my pizza.
And me? I’m still here. Still walking. Still reclaiming (trying to).
Still awkwardly chatting with artists who remember my former partner (no, I still don’t want to say ex…).
Still, unfortunately, predictably, and hopefully endearingly STUCK?
