Blue Eyes and Other Sources of Drowning

My Ghost Boy

My coworker asks about him- the boy that made cookies with me like an old married couple. I bite my tongue because how embarrassing is it that it's two weeks later and I've barely heard from him. I try to soften the blow by making excuses about why he couldn't bother to send a text but once every twenty-four hours. He's still grieving. I'm scared for his mental health. I've spent most of my words about him as excuses for why he disappears or didn't show up. My coworker gives me a strange face implying that if he really liked me he wouldn't be disappearing. And I joke about my ghost of a boy to stop from dying inside.