close encounters of the third kind 👻
On this Friday the 13th, I explore the nuances of seeing a real-life ghost.
Last Thursday I had an incredibly vivid dream about drowning in a bathtub.
Someone else was there, too. They fell into the water first and when I tried to help them out, it reminded me of the sick joke you play when you are on swim team and you pretend to need help climbing out of a pool, only to pull the sucker who lent you a hand into the depths with you. This is what happened to me, in my dream state. I lent them a hand, and they pulled me right down with them.
This person is not a frequent visitor in my dreams. What I will say, though, is that I think about this person sometimes. It’s not a bad feeling, but it’s not a good one either. It just is, whatever it is. I’ll see something that reminds me of them and I’ll sit with it for a second and then I’ll go back to doing whatever I was doing and forget all about it until it happens again.
Don’t we all do that, though? Old friends we don’t talk to anymore, exes we’ve left behind, a relative we’ve lost? We’re living in a culture where moments and memories are preserved on a digital screen in front of us. Nostalgia Ultra: Guaranteed.
I was rattled when I woke up. It was 71 degrees in October, and I had already transitioned my closet to fall. I was late to work, sweating through my shirt, and trying to get the picture of being drowned in a bathtub out of my head. I was distracted on my walk down the stairs into the subway station, as I was thinking about who I could text in that moment that could stomach a conversation about this person for the millionth time.
The train arrives and when I put my phone down to approach, the people are so packed into the car that I abstain from getting on. I choose to wait for the next one. What’s another 4 minutes when you’re already extremely late for work?
When the Manhattan bound L pulls out of the station, the Brooklyn bound one does the same. Two trains passing in the late morning, and I took the one less crowded — that has made all the difference because as I remain standing there on the platform, guess who I make immediate eye contact with when the trains leave? The person from my dream, standing exactly like this on the opposite platform.
I don’t really know what this person thinks of me anymore. I don’t have a regular relationship with them, and on the off chance we run into each other, we speak pleasantly, as if we don’t share a history with confusion, anxiety, drama, and regret for how we treated each other. I knew we both lived in the same neighborhood, and I had seen them once before. But that was months ago, and I honestly kind of forgot that I might run into them again. They are a ghost to me; I know nothing about what they are doing or where they are going. However, thinking about this dream and happening to see them hours later threw me for a loop. I’ll admit it.
But I’m ~so relaxed and so chill and totally fine~, so this person and I acknowledge each other’s existence. Smile and wave boys, ala penguins of Madagascar. I go on with my day, I go to work meetings, I pick up my dry cleaning, I text my friends about my plans for Friday night, and the truth is, I don’t really have to try THAT hard to forget about what happened on Thursday morning.
It got harder, of course, when I saw them in a bar the following evening.
I was on the second floor and I could see the throngs of people below me downstairs, when I saw this person walk through the crowd. I convinced myself I was hallucinating, of course, because why would they also be in the same bar in a different borough than the one we live in at the exact same time the DAY AFTER I saw this person on a subway platform?
It’s taken me a week to reflect; there is no reason. It just happened.
My friends wanted to go downstairs, so I followed suit. I did confirm that it was in fact, this person. They did not see me, we did not exchange pleasantries; I didn’t feel it was the appropriate setting to do that. So I just walked by them and carried on with my evening.
That’s not to say though, that I didn’t go around telling everyone that I was SHOCKED, that in the biggest city in America, I happened to see the same person randomly, TWICE in two days. WOW! That’s crazy. Someone, somewhere is laughing at me and my naiveté, and it very well could be this person who might just stumble upon this substack and find it invasive and annoying that I wrote this down, to which I say, relax, I only have 51 subscribers.
(that being said, that could CHANGE!! if you came here from Instagram or a friend sent this to you, or you have not yet - please subscribe! 😇 ^^)
So of course, I continue on with my weekend. Plans to enjoy, friends to see, essays to outline and write. But it still felt bigger than it probably was, at least to me.
Even though I separated my life from this person’s years ago, and SO much time has passed since we ran in the same circle, I grapple with the fact that I am still shook by running into them. It’s surprising, most of all to myself. I think a small part of me wishes I could be unfazed by clunky interactions, things that happen by surprise, or truly, the shock factor of seeing a person that kind of messed you up for a while, twice in two days.
Or rather, three times. (In six days, BUT STILL.)
On Tuesday, I made my way to Manhattan When I arrived on the subway platform to delayed L Trains, I was going to be late to work again, so I let two trains pass by. As I waited for the third, I saw this person AGAIN - this time, on my side of the platform.
I was honestly not surprised at all by this point. So much so as headphones were taken out (theirs) books were put back into bags (mine) and we chatted for a little.
We had an incredibly normal and friendly conversation. Shoved ourselves into the crowded subway car and I told them that I saw them from afar at the bar. We spoke about my birthday (past) and theirs (coming up.) They told me about a trip they’re going on. No one eavesdropping on this convo on the L Train would ever think we ever had any animosity towards each other. Which, at least, I did. For a while. I won’t lie.
They got off first, and I thought about it for a second. Did a full body check. My hands weren’t shaking, and I could feel my heart already on its way back to its normal resting rate. It had finally happened. Seeing this person didn’t really affect me.
I had finally released myself from the stress of “will I run into them?” because I literally already had. 3 times in a row. I don’t think it could get any worse than that (and if you have had a crazier string of interactions, please leave a comment and tell me about it.) These close encounters were working like exposure therapy, I guess, because I walked off that subway, went to my office, and barely thought about it again until I sat down to write this.
I will leave you with this; all signs point to “this will probably happen again.” But I hope this person feels similarly, and that they don’t worry about running into me anymore. The truth is, they shouldn’t because I’m nice as hell, funny as shit, and talking to me is a great way to forget you’re standing on a crowded L Train in the middle of natural deodorant season.