ghost from the past

i'm standing at the computer trying to type. [yes standing, in bike cleats, because all of the sit-down computers are taken] i'm distracted by the short dark guy standing next to me because he is one of those zealous typers who also feels the need to chuckle to himself about whatever he is doing. that is all fine and well, but this particular fellow must work in some sort of seafood related industry, at least for his sake i hope so, because he smells like a trawler. as if all this outside distraction wasn't bad enough, my stomach is doing cartwheels, all because i happened to think about a guy who broke my heart five years ago. while trying to remember the title of a book he once gave me, i find my self pondering what he might be doing now. our relationship did not end well, and i haven't said more than three words to him since he broke up with me and left me stranded, crying, alone at a train station in small-town mass. the only residual feelings i've ever had in regards to him are hurt and hatred, but out of the blue, i'm confronted with all of these [mostly] repressed memories of him and i sitting naked by his bedroom window, wrapped in his soft blue blanket, smoking hand-rolled cigarettes and talking about our future like kids in love. it's so bizarre how someone can be such a huge part of your life, claim a slice of your soul and then disappear into a blur of anger and pain. it makes me realize that, as cheezy as it sounds, when something like that is left without 'closure' it never truly dies. i'm not one to continually dwell on these things. i'm all about leaving the past behind me. it's when memories come uninvited that i realize we don't get to choose which ghosts haunt us.