A brief email from an old friend, saying he’s concerned and asking about a good time to call… I was on the phone immediately.
It seems that he’s back.
In college, I married a friend from high school. It was a terrible time. He was violent and frightening. Often, he was so intoxicated he didn’t even realize the degree to which he went. It took many months and help of several friends for me to be able to leave safely. Even then, it was not without confrontation, and I was so grateful for my coworker and the police officer that blocked the door as I ran. Even after I left, there was fear. Constantly looking over my shoulder, never walking alone, frequent threats delivered on paper and by telephone. Once running from his truck as it jumped the curb toward me. Lots of bad memories there, and lots of pain, which I fortunately have not revisited in a very long time.
I was so angry for a few years after that. Angry at the world, but mostly at myself. Over time though, as I learned how to protect myself and how to become more and more hidden, I began to feel safer. I tried to become a ghost — invisible and distant.
More time passed. I became more relaxed. I was less afraid, and less cautious. I gradually became more visible. I suppose that is what happens when you let go of fear.
But he’s back.
Apparently, he is attempting to contact others to get information about me. Thankfully, my friend has no intention of responding, but of course, my mind is racing. Who else has he tried to contact? What is the purpose? Does he know where I am? What my name is now? And I began to realize I am no longer terribly hard to find.
I am torn between this immediate, visceral fear, and the logical side of me which refuses to be afraid. Refuses to hide. Still, it may be time to once again become a ghost.