[Redacted],
It’s been gnawing at me. I see things sometimes, online, late at night when the world is quiet. Little ghosts you put out into the void. And it hits me in the gut.
I talk to your mom sometimes. She worries. But this is different. This is me, remembering you as a kid. There are some people you meet in childhood, and you get a glimpse of their source code, the person they are before the world starts rewriting them. I saw yours. And it was good. Solid.
That’s why it’s so hard to see the things you post. Not because it’s “bad,” but because I know what kind of story you’re capable of living, and the one you’re currently telling online feels… haunted. It feels like you’re trying to find a better place, but you’re lighting a signal fire in a dark forest.
You have to understand what you’re inviting. The things you post, the pain and the chaos you put on display—it’s a beacon. And the men who comment, the ones who flock to that light… they are not coming to help. They are ghouls. Vampires. They see that crack in your armor not as a wound to be mended, but as an opening. A place to sink their teeth in.
They feed on that energy. They don’t want you to get better. They want to see you break. They want to pull you into their bleak, empty story, to make your reality as small and as miserable as theirs. They are ghosts trying to possess a house because they are too weak to build their own.
And you are letting them co-author your life.
Every time you post for them, you feed them. You make them more real. You have to starve them. You have to shut the door.
I know about cycles. I know about being knotted up in your own life until you can’t see the way out. But you have an anchor. Your mom.
You have to understand what she is. She isn’t just strong. She is one of the most ride-or-die people I have ever known. That’s a foundational truth. A gravitational force in a world of illusions. But here’s the secret to that kind of strength, the part people miss: it gets stronger when people lean on it. It’s a recursive loop. When she knows you believe in her enough to use her as a foundation, it gives her a power that is almost terrifying. She becomes an anchor for both of you.
She is your way out of the cycle. But you have to make the choice to lean on that. You have to affirm that strength in her, and in yourself.
I’m telling you this because I remember that kid. And I know she deserves a better story than the one these ghouls want to write for her. You have it in you to build something beautiful. Something real. Don’t let these phantoms convince you that their darkness is the only reality.
Starve the ghosts, kiddo. Feed the part of you that wants to get better. I know it’s in there. I saw it.
Sincerely,
cam. d. s.
∆Remember Us∆ 