I feel like I owe apologies
to all the friends I clung to
as they tried, politely, to drift away.

All the ghosters I wouldn’t let ghost.
All the people I kept messaging
texting
Facebook-interacting.
I’m sorry I didn’t take the hint,
sorry I made it more than it was
sorry I couldn’t just let go
and kept following you around
like a puppy you fed once
and wished you hadn’t.

I’m sorry I hung on too long
that I didn’t give up on what we had
because I don’t like giving up–
it hurts to let go of people that
meant–that still mean–something
to me.

I collect people
the way some collect pictures
or movies
or tchotchkes.

I hoard my interactions and
insist
on keeping them near
and check on them once in a while.
Touching each one
waiting through silence
reaching out again
and again
and hoping they just got too busy.
But they weren’t really too busy.
Just hoping that I would take the hint
and disappear.