Forget

Make up a story… For our sake and yours forget your name in the street; tell us what the world has been to you in the dark places and in the light. Don’t tell us what to believe, what to fear. Show us belief’s wide skirt and the stitch that unravels fear’s caul.
—  Toni Morrison, The Nobel Lecture In Literature, 1993
You’re going to forget me. It won’t be fast or sudden or something where I’m clear one day and an empty space the next. But, slowly, you’ll forget the sound of my voice, and then you won’t be able to picture the shape of my face, and eventually you’ll be looking at the sky right before the clouds start pouring rain, and you won’t be able to quite place the familiarity of that color, but it will be the same gray-blue that is my eyes.
You’ll no longer know that, though. I’ll just be an outline, a blurry body of disconnected memories that occasionally fits into your past. And that’s okay. Some people aren’t meant to be remembered. I’m just one of those people.
—  H.L. // excerpt from a book I’ll never write #40
Have you ever wanted to erase the past so badly that you’d be okay with losing your memory altogether?
—  another-broken-hello