Fog and Ghosts

it feels like nothing else is real anymore, like im just a cloud of fog and the rest of the world are ghosts. i sit in bed and wonder, can someone hold fog? at least when you're a ghost you're not alone. can anyone truly love fog? when you're a ghost the rain in uncomfortable, but at least it won't cut through you. she's a ghost, but she wants to understand how fog works. at least, i hope she'd like to understand. i tend to drift, thats my first lesson to her. fog moves around a lot, even if we don't mean to, even if we desperately don't want to. the distance can be painful, excruciating. but as a cloud of fog you learn to normalize it. you learn to deal with the space between everyone else and yourself, not being able to see the ghosts you'd like to see. but that doesn't mean fog cares any less. my second lesson. anybody can be fog, it just takes time to become that empty and care-free. i extend my hollow arms toward her. i don't care if i can't reach her. i don't care if she won't hold out her arms back. all that matters to me is that im trying. fog needs to try if they want to get anywhere in life. a simple but pitiful story, the fog loves ghost, but ghost won't love fog back.