What does being forgotten feel like?
Does it feel like no one sees you or hears you? Does it feel like a constant cloud hanging above your head, threatening to drench any mote of hope or happiness even before it’s brought to fruition in your head? Does it feel as if you could fall or crash and nothing would break, because you were made of nothing in the first place?
Being forgotten is being numb, ignored, cheated, neglected and pushed aside. It’s a horrible, haunting reminder that your life is seemingly insignificant simply because others deem it so. Being forgotten is the realization that someone you put importance in, someone whom you gave substance and form to, someone you placed faith and hope in, turned away and left as if you were no more than the last breath they exhaled: used and unnecessary.
But how can we forget anything that houses a soul and spirit? How can we discard something as precious as another living, breathing, thinking being?
And yet, some of us do it so easily. We do it to the overworked cashier who smiles good morning, even when we can’t be bothered to look them in the face. We do it to the people on the street. We do it to babies in the womb. We do it to people we once loved more than ourselves; people we’ve whispered promises to in the dark; people we’ve given our own tears and sweat and souls to...
We do it over and over and over. We do it unfeelingly, or with so much feeling that it becomes impossible to feel anything anymore.
We forget because it's easier than carrying the burden of memories. We forget because we're weak or tired or scared. We forget when we all know that deep down, forgetting isn't permanent. Forgetting is just throwing the dust cover on a piece of furniture you don't want anyone to see. It's pretending.
Forgetting can't be permanent.