Ghosts that Haunt Me

This piece of writing is in response to a prompt I received from Mia Boynton, librarian at Monhegan, ME. Just in time for Halloween, she encouraged our writing group to craft a piece that reflects on one or more meanings of "haunt". Here is mine:

I have to confess that I am haunted by shoulda, woulda, coulda's ever since Holden Caulfield keyed me in to their existence. There are so many possibilities that might have been chosen, and being one person, I have only been able to manage one choice in each circumstance. But that doesn't mean I don't think about the others. So many choices and we only get to pick one! It doesn't seem fair, does it?

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both,
And be one traveler, long I stood...

Sometimes I feel like I am still standing there with good ole Robert, looking as far down the road as I can, putting off the moment when I take my first step in the other direction. But it is true what they say about not making a choice actually being a choice, and so I know I did finally put one foot in front of the other. I did, finally, start walking down one path, although I confess to looking over my shoulder a bit.

I remember being shocked by a friend who said she never second guessed herself. When she made a choice, she never looked back. She just got on with it without giving even a thought to the options she had turned her back on. Wow, I felt so lost in that moment, lost in the forest of possibilities that torment me every time a choice is squeezed out of me.

The numberless unlived possibilities invade my thoughts like so many ghosts sometimes. usually on a day when I don't feel I have accomplished much. About four o'clock in the afternoon they push me to find something useful to do  before night closes in. Write a novel! Bake bread! Tend the garden! Make an amazing dinner! Compose a poem! Clean the bathroom! Do something, anything! - Quickly - before the ghosts get too comfortable and set up house.