I think you need to fall in love with the wrong person. I think you need to fight and cry and sweat and bleed and fail. I think you need to have bad relationships and bad breakups. I think you need all of that so that when the right person and the right relationship finally comes along, you can sigh with relief and say, “Ah yes. That is how it’s supposed to feel.
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