I am surrounded by ghosts of my past.

I used to live in an apartment with my ex of 7 years. After a divorce, I lived at my parents for 10 months, then my sister for 6 until finally getting my own place.

The new apartment I am living at has things I brought over from my old apartment. Plates, forks, towels, my dog, etc. While they are simply objects, they are reminders of what my life once was. I use a certain mug or fork or something like that, and I’m staring into a past life; a life that now feels so foreign to me.

The ghosts of my past are surrounding me, and they are scattered all over my apartment, reminding me of something so old but so new.