Ghost Eaters

by Clay McLeod Chapman

Now we’re stranded in that liminal space between childhood and adulthood, which most days feels like being stuck somewhere between the living and the dead.

But sometimes the best kind of help a friend can offer is to just stop helping.

You’d never know I was there unless you knew where to look for me, which is exactly the way I like it.

This house is officially closed from future hauntings, fuck you very much.

I made a choice: I want to live. That right there—that simple sentence—is the first step. Life can begin with those four words. But you have to believe.

I realized the best way—the only way, really—to keep living is to acknowledge the past. I have to try, at least. It’s the only way to coexist now.