Go

I thought I knew how I'd react.
I've played it over in my mind more times than I'd like to admit.
I've shown indifference.  I've shown sincere affection.
I've locked eyes and stared down hatred with an intensity that chills.
But it was all hypothetical.
And with the most overwhelming hope for an encounter that would never happen.
Lord save me from my ghosts.

But today I felt the reality of such an encounter.
And it surprised me with the instinctive gut reaction.
I saw him.
Or who I thought was Mr. Volcano.
'Twas merely his doppleganger, some lanky tower with methodical steps that glide and a melancholy disposition daring you to alter it.
My stomach leapt into my throat.
I hate rollercoasters.
And I slid down the ramp of a drop straight down.
I held my breath and felt the clarity of anticipated pain just before you smack cement.
ohmygod, I whispered.
And my body involuntarily shook.

Are you ok? my coworker asked me.
No, I felt.
This ghost needs to leave me be.
He needs to go.
Far, far away.