You know, you know it will always just be me.

I feel like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders.
The weight of a dead boyfriend.
Dead as in, dead to me.
Dead as in he never seemed to make the effort to even talk/see my anymore.
Dead as in it's over.
Dead.

Now I'm thinking of death again. And how once we die, someday we'll be foregotten. As soon as we die, of course, (hopefully) all our family and friends will be mourning over the fact we died. Our children will mourn. Our grandchildren will mourn. Maybe even great grandchildren. But, what happens when the last person who was holding onto your memory just that little bit (maybe even so pushing you to the backs of their minds, but you're still there) dies? We're foregotten. Unless we've achieved something great and our names are published and out there somewhere (or our pictures) we are totally foregotten.

I shall make a name for myself. I don't want to be foregotten forever.
Not me.