of invisible roommates

Ummm.. so where were we?

I think I already told you that I used to live in a haunted house where a woman my age had been murdered. At first I didn’t believe it, but then spooky shit happened, and I asked Mister, whom I was “just friends” with to spend the night at my place. You know how these things go. We got drunk and fell in love.

Anyway. We had been going out two days when he came home again, and found me really upset.

I had already been sleeping in the living room with the lights on because I was afraid of the ghost and the noises she was making. To add to my troubles, a bunch of guys on the street had found out that I lived alone and had started throwing pebbles at my window. Sometimes, when the curtains weren’t drawn, they would be glued to my window. Their catcalls and whistles drowned out the ghost’s noises.

of old doors and new

[Right before this happened, this happened.]

Moving into a new house was as exhausting as it was exciting. There was all the packing, loading, unloading and unpacking to do. Four times in one day, by the way, without any help whatsoever. The mister and I were in denial just friends back then, and I refused to let him help me. I saw this as an opportunity to pull my own weight, even if it meant giving away over a third of the forty two pairs of shoes I owned. I would’ve had to give away the clothes and bags too, had the new house been any farther away.

As soon as I entered the house