Since arriving here, something strange keeps happening.
Three times now, people have mistaken me for someone they know.
They greet me with wide smiles, familiar warmth, and stories I don't remember living. One even paused, really looked at me, and asked, *"Are you a spirit?"*
how
I laughed it off at the time, but sometimes, late in quiet moments, I wonder.
Am I real?
Or am I simply familiar—
some echo of someone they loved,
some feeling they once knew?
Maybe it’s my smile, easy and open.
Maybe it's the way I move through the world—soft around the edges, leaving room for people to find a piece of themselves in me. Ha ha ha
Or maybe we are all a little ghostly to one another—
parts real, parts memory, parts dream. Possibility!
Whatever the reason, I don't mind.
If I can remind someone of warmth, of friendship, of home—
then maybe being a spirit now and then isn't such a bad thing.
Observations from a journey:
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