The ghost Who sat on My couch

"She's on my couch. Just sitting there. Like she lives here. And I'm in the kitchen making tea. Two cups. And I don't even drink tea. But I'm making it. Steeping it. Like it's normal. I brought the cups out and set one in front of her and sat down and she said thanks. And we just. Sat there. The tea got cold. Neither of us drank it. And I remember thinking "why did I make tea." And then I thought "because she likes tea." And then I thought "does she." And I couldn't remember. She said something about her mom. Something I couldn't follow. And I nodded. And she kept talking. And I looked at her. Same face. Same everything. But it was like looking at a photograph. Flat. Nice. But flat. She got up eventually. Said she had to go. And I said okay. And she walked to the door and I didn't follow her. Just sat there. Two cold cups. And the door closed. And I woke up. I lay there and checked my phone. No messages. Nothing from her. Two years. I got up and made coffee. Dumped out the tea that wasn't real. Sat on my couch. Same spot. Alone. And it was fine."