Don’t let the ghosts and the ghouls disturb you, love.

Sometimes it’s a hint of movement out of the corner of my eye, or the inexplicable prickling of my skin; hairs raising along my forearms for just a moment. It could be the feeling that I’m being watched, or a breeze carrying a particular scent. Occasionally I will talk with him, but always when I’m asleep; the details hazy by the time I wake. Mostly, it is just an ache, deep within my heart, and a tiredness that gnaws at the very marrow of my bones.