I don't want to be easy to forget

There is a special kind of heartbreak that doesn’t come from being screamed at or dramatically dumped. It’s the quiet heartbreak of realizing you are easy to forget.

The first time I felt it, it wasn’t even a big moment.

No screaming, no door slamming, no goodbye text. Just… silence.

And I think, well no I know that it was the most hurtful thing that has ever happened to me

Messages slowly stopped. Plans stopped happening. My name disappeared from their stories, their calls, their life.

And worst of all their memories as well

And the worst part wasn’t that they left. It was how easy it seemed for them.

Never reaching out again. Never looking back when we crossed on the street. Never giving it a second thought.

I watched people move on from me like I was a song they’d overplayed. Cute for a while. On repat every hourThen skipped. Then deleted from the playlist altogether. Like it never had been there at all

Meanwhile, I was still stuck on the same verse. Still checking if they’d text back. Still replaying conversations in my head, wondering what exactly made me so forgettable.

Was I too quiet? Too loud? Too sensitive? Not funny enough, not pretty enough, not “chill” enough? Or was I just too dumb to think I even meant anything at all?

It’s devastating to realize someone you’d write a whole book about wouldn’t give you more than a sentence in theirs. While you have written with tears streaming down your face blood on the floor and butterflies now all puked out, scattered on the floor.

I notice every small sign that I’m fading from someone’s life. The replies that go from paragraphs to one‑word answers. The “let’s meet soon” that never becomes a date. The way I stop being the first person they tell things to.

I start to feel like background noise. Like I’m there, but not really listened to. Maybe even starting to be annoying at times Like I’m the “oh yeah, I forgot about her” person.

And it hurts. It hurts in a way that’s hard to explain without sounding dramatic. Or like im calling for attention.

Because how do you say,

“It breaks my heart that you can live just fine without me,” without sounding pathetic?

But here’s what I’m trying to remind myself, slowly, gently:

Being easy to forget to them doesn’t mean I am small. It doesn’t mean I am dull or replaceable or unimportant. It just means I gave my depth to someone who only had space for shallow things.

Some people only know how to hold light versions of you. They never met the full story, the whole galaxy, the girl who remembers everything and feels even more. They never earned that version – so of course, it was easy to drop her. It was easy to forget her because they never knew her in the first place.

I don’t want to be easy to forget. I want to be the kind of person whose laugh echoes, whose words stay, whose absence is felt. Who you remember in the most unexpected moments.

But I’m learning this: The right people don’t forget you. Not really. They might get busy. They might go through things. But you never become “nothing” to them.

If someone can erase you like you were a typo in their life, that says more about the way they write, not about the worth of your story.

So if you also feel devastatingly easy to forget, this is for you:

You are not a placeholder. You are not “just for now”. You are not the backup plan, the convenient option, the “oh well, she’s still here” girl.

You are the kind of person who feels deeply, remembers details, loves with her whole chest. Of course it hurts when people drop you like you were light.

But there will be people – friends, lovers, maybe even strangers –who see you, hold you, and keep you. To them, you will not be easy to forget. To them, you will be the person they still think about years later when a song comes on, when the light hits a certain way, when they see someone carrying a book or a cup of tea that looks like you.

Until then, remind yourself:

Your value does not shrink just because someone else’s memory of you does. You are not easy to forget. They just never took the time to really know you.

And that’s is okay because not everyone appreciates art the same way.

And you my darling reader are the prettiest art there is.

 Yours truly ❤️