The Pain Of Letting Go

rstanding when you go. Or how you can become a ghost.Being a ghost is not exactly something I would recommend, however. Because you don’t get to move on from the people you love. Because th

asn’t a huge fan of the idea. Neither was she, to be fair. But it had been almost three years. Three years of her not knowing I was there, keeping a silent watch over her—a guardian angel in my own way. I didn’t want her to move on. But she didn’t get to see melike how I could see her. She didn’t get to stillfall for me with every tiny random detail.So I watched her go on a date.It didn’t go well. There wasn’t a second one. At least, not with that guy. But, a few guys later, she met him, and well, he got a second date.And a third date. And quite a few more. He bought her flowers. She danced with him at the park when they stumbled across a performer there. They went to my gravetogether. He bent down and promised the nowwell-worn stone he would do his best to take care of her, to make her happy. He met her parents. I was selfishly satisfied that they clearly liked me better. But I was relieved that they were still lovely as ever.She went out to lunch once a month with my mom, and that seemed like it would never stop. My mom was happy for her. I was happy for her.Or I was trying to be.It was a year and a half after they started dating that he proposed. I knew he was planning it. He asked her parents for their blessing just like I did. They said yes, just like they did for me. I knew she wanted to say yes, but she asked for a minute before sheresponded. Then, she went outside and looked up at the sky. The moonlight shined on her face, making her even more beautiful.“Hi.” She whispered softly. “It’