Ghosts

Why do I always have to keep forgetting people? I’m sick of forgetting people. Like, not even there- incredible, beautiful people that I pretend don’t exist. Never met. Something happens, and...they’re lost forever. A scrapbook of ghosts. Do I keep the photos, or erase them. Later I’ll wish that I’d kept them, but I can’t do it just now. I love...I dunno. I think I find something in so many people. It’s the pride that tells me to leave it alone. Ultimately, it saves me from,...what? What’s it do, finally?