We’ve spoken about ghosts here and there. Lately, with reunion looming, I feel like I am haunting my own life, finding might-have-been footsteps; meeting could-have-been friends and, inch’allah, even family.
But the metaphor is bothering me. A ghost is the immaterial which haunts the physical plane of the past, of what was. What is it when our physical self falls into phase with a phantom “future”, a ruptured would-have-been?