The Facebook like. The happy birthday text. The ghost of a relationship long passed. Who are you now? No idea, really. When I knew you a million years ago the friendship seemed important and possibly meaningful. School-enforced proximity brought daily sightings, hellos, jokes, sometimes lunches, and always parties. Now? An itch of guilt soothed by a thumbs-up retort to your generic post. Returning your distant serve and leaving the ball in your court. Hoping you’ll finally lose interest and halt the haunting. Not worth the trouble to formally exorcise you. This long-withering vine persists despite intentional neglect. Damned weed of loyalty.