You don't know why, but you feel responsible for this ghost, like you need to somehow help it advance to the other side. Further, you feel even more responsible to tell everyone about it. Also, you're probably a chick.
I mean no judgment, there. I'm just pointing it out, because every single person who has ever tried to convince me that their house, apartment, car or workplace was haunted has, without exception, been a woman. Just a weird thing I noticed, chicks hate ghosts.
In everyone else's mind:
Ghosts aren't real. Ghosts aren't real. Ghosts aren't real. Hey, real quick, are ghosts real? No, man, they're not.
Maybe it's me. Maybe I'm just getting older, and crankier. Maybe the fun of ghost stories is just imagining that they could be real and maybe that part of my imagination has died. Maybe I'm losing all of the magic that used to be in my heart, and that's what's keeping me from embracing the fantasy of ghost stories, of really letting go and believing in something based purely on faith. Or maybe ghosts aren't real and ghosts aren't real, and "No," because ghosts aren't real.
Every ghost story I've heard sounds almost exactly like this: "I never thought ghosts existed, but then my boyfriend and I moved to this new apartment, and at night, I swear, I heard someone walking around. But there wasn't anyone there! And in the morning, I'm pretty sure our trashcan was out of place, slightly. Anyway, we're probably going to have to move, now." Or "I was hanging out with my sister when the lights flicked off for NO REASON and I swear, I mean, I swear I felt something move through me. Like, I felt it. Boom: Ghosted." No one dies, or changes or has sex, and nothing explodes, nothing in our observable reality changes in any kind of fundamental way, and no lessons are learned. Those are bad stories, but people assume that the fact that they believe their ghost was real is enough to make up for an otherwise boring story about background noises.
It's because ghosts aren't real that ghost stories are always boring. As the listener, you know that the story you're hearing isn't actually about ghosts. Whatever sound the storyteller heard is just the house settling. It's OK that the lights flickered on and off in her house, because that's a thing that lights do, occasionally. The ghost that she felt move through her body was either a cold breeze or her own nerves, playing tricks.