I remember talking to the ghosts up in the attic.

You always said you felt an evil presence in the static.

But I always felt like they had my back.

Maybe they really did and that's why you felt like that.

They witnessed all of our fights

and the way you made me cry every single night.

And when you moved out,

they were all I had to talk to.

'Cause when you left,

you took my best friend with you.

So I made friends with the spirits in the attic;

And I'm pretty sure they were relieved when you didn't come back.

Even though they could tell that it was killing me inside.

When I couldn't take the pain anymore

They watched me break down on the bedroom floor,

Begging god to take my life.

You said they were evil but they comforted me.

I was never afraid of that house,

Even though everyone said that I should be.

I never felt alone even when I was at my loneliest.

I felt like I was actually alive.

Even though that house was where our marriage finally died.

It's hard to explain in a way that makes sense.

I found my weakness and I found my strength.

I thought my life was over

And then I realized that it might've just began.

That house was bittersweet to me and those ghosts were my only company.

I'd give up the life that I built for myself now,

To be able to go back and talk to them somehow.

You always said that there was something evil living inside of that house.

But they were the only friends that I had when you moved out.

Maybe it wasn't the ghosts in the attic

that made you feel like that house could never be your home.

Maybe it wasn't their existence that was evil,

Maybe it was your own.