A Ghostly Decision

I swear I could feel it, the soft touch of her hand against my tear-dampened cheek. I knew it could not be so, death had come between us, had terminated our earthly relationship. I would never feel the human touch of her fingers again. What I could feel was the pain of death, and even more the ripping of my soul that the rift of passing had caused.

Our life together had been much too brief but the bond of our love had been so strong. It was hard to believe death had come so soon.

Could a love so strong be destroyed by the end of life? Could I go on without her? In life, our love, our lust for each other had been strong. I could not keep my hands from her, nor my lips from the sweetness of her kiss. She had returned the fervor of my love, my lust. The intensity of us belonged immortalized. No love had ever been stronger, hotter. No flame of love had ever been so intense.

I lay there in our bed, and I could see her, more, I could experience her. The sensations of my life with this wonderful, beautiful woman swirled around my senses. I could smell the delightful fragrance of her perfume, her sweat. I could see the the twinkle of those soft brown eyes. I could feel the gentle curve of her cheek and the soft strength of her chin under the caress of my fingers. I could taste the sweetness of her kiss when our lips met.

The memories of her so fresh, so painful. I remember the public her, the little black dress that had the men drooling, queuing up in a long line for a simple dance with my gorgeous wife, the smile that lit the room and infected everyone with a joy of life and a lust for living. I remembered the envy others directed toward me, for simply being with her and I felt the pride, pride for having had her choose me for her partner.

The pain rolled through my soul as I recalled the private woman, the girl who so casually cuddled her nude body against mine, sending thrills through me, as she smiled that smile that turned my insides gushy and warm and so filled me with content. I could almost hear the giggles of adults at post sexual play, a gift shared between us, never to be again.

The anguish overwhelmed me. I wanted her so. I needed her so. My being wracked by sobs so strong my whole body shook with pain. I longed to touch her one more time, to feel her body wrapped around mine.

The ache of loss beyond description. My very soul torn asunder. It was not fair that we were so violently ripped apart. Questions rushed through me. Could I go on without her? Could I bear the wait until we were reunited in death? Would her soul still love me when it was time for us to be together again?

What would my wife, my love, my best friend, my lover want? Certainly life should go on. There should be happiness, new life, new lust, new love. But should the past love hang on? Would, should the spirit of the departed cling to the living through life, stealing precious moments to touch a hand with a ghostly near touch? A caress felt only in the soul but never as human contact. Could the ghost bear the pain of watching life go on, to witness those new lusts?

As I watched my beautiful wife in near sleep, I saw her roll over. Her arm flung wide in the way she often sprawled in sleep. I remembered how the collision of that sharp elbow with my cheek had woken me. The burst of anger that always filled me as I was jarred from slumber by the painful contact. Anger that quickly turned to laughter and if I was lucky, lovemaking in the middle of the night.

That would not happen this night. Tonight, that hard elbow slashed right through me, doing nothing to me, but sending a chill down a spine. Could she feel my presence as I did hers? Perhaps she sensed me for she began to cry, her body wracked by sobs. Tears that tortured my soul. I could feel the emotion, but no liquid tears could be shed by a ghost.

I heard her sobs, joined by the silent tortured outcry of a my soul. A ghost could shed no liquid tears, only feel the pain of emotion.

I remembered the sounds of the truck's breaks squealing behind me. The sight of the train speeding toward the crossing. I had seen the blinding lights, those rushing down the track and those of the truck through the rear window, just before the first sound of crushing metal as the semi struck me from behind, pushing me directly into the path of the charging juggernaut of iron. I relived the moment of panic, knowing I had only moments to escape the car before the smash of a deadly train. My fingers just reaching the seatbelt release before the impact of the railroad engine on the door inches from me.

My next memory was of floating free from a mangled and decapitated body. Looking down on a destroyed human form that I knew was me. I knew that my ghostly being was whole while my mortal self was torn into pieces.

I had known I needed to get home to see my wife. Somehow I had gone home. I don't know how I did it. My feet didn't touch the ground, it had been like learning to walk all over again, but somehow I floated home to the woman I so desired. I would give anything to talk to her one more time! I needed her so much in that moment!

I watched her cry through three days. I had seen no sight of God but somehow I knew that He had given me these three days to choose my path. Time to learn the pain of the ghost, to see and feel it all and not be able to interact.

Now it was time to choose. I could see the white light beckoning me into the unknown. The world of death, perhaps of heaven. Could it be heaven without her?

Should I stay with her throughout her remaining life or move on into the unknown? Would she still love me when it was her time to die? Could I be a part of her life as a ghost? Could I bear watching her life? Would I have another chance to go to the light or be trapped in this world when she moved on to the next?

It was time to choose. Somehow I knew the light was for me, my transportation to the unknown. A rest stop for the soul... or perhaps a hell waiting for her to join me in death while she changed in life, her love for me cooling. Would she, could she choose someone else, someone she had yet to meet, to spend eternity with?

The light called and I must choose.