Forgotten
How do you deal with being forgotten? Being brushed aside and just left to be with the rest of everyday occurrences after you were, for a short time at least, priority…
As we move through life at a horrendous clip, it’s easiest to feel forgotten. For all the emotions and heartache we all may feel as individuals, the notion of being abandoned, forgotten, pushed aside, left by the side of the road; that might just be the strongest.
Why?
I’d like to think I know … digital distractions? Life too full? Hands amputated and vocal cords stolen?
But then I have a moment of clarity and reality: As a society and a people we have become much less tolerant of “useless” relationships.
Don’t answer a text/email/post quickly enough: done. Refuse to tag me in a photo we took together? Dead to me. Don’t follow me back on IG? Well, why the fuck did I even talk to you? Digital relationships are so complex these days, I don’t even pretend to comprehend them. But these relationships leave more people forgotten than ever before.
Do I think it’s right? Absolutely not. But it’s a reality we need to adjust to today.
Having been married, I fully understand what it means to move on. I do. And perhaps my situation was unique since I moved on while we were still in our “relationship.” But that doesn’t mean the notion that we were eventually going to forget one another was there …
I’ve not had a great number of ex-boyfriends. In fact, I can count them on one hand …. and it would require less than half the fingers on that hand. Doesn’t make the “forgetting” process any easier.
And, wait, hang on … I say “forgetting process” but fuck me, I better not be the only one trying to forget here. I struggle with it on a daily basis; being an adult about it, not reaching out, being civil, not crying every time a certain song comes on, holding my shit together when I see a pic of said ex with another blonde on some god-awful social media site. I struggle. But do they?
There’s the real demon of today’s reality. There is no “forgetting” because they’re there every day, all the time. Online. There with someone new. Smiling. Happy. Moved one. Surviving without you, the forgotten one. Living their life. And as much as you want to look away, you can’t . Because you’re in the ether. You’re in the outskirts, the darkness. And so you watch .. dying a little more inside each day.
Forgotten.
Today, I handed over a foster cat to a transport company so he could journey to his forever home. I’ve had this cat for over 4 weeks now.
The day I picked up said cat (Oliver), I also picked up my then long-distance boyfriend from the airport… for those who follow this blog (bless you), know that the weekend with the then-boyfriend didn’t quite go as planned.
Oliver was a constant reminder of the past. Every time I looked at that cat I saw a human him. And yet that didn’t make me love Oliver any less. In fact, it made me want to continue to make him happy. To love him. To keep him content. To make him remember.
I didn’t want to be the forgotten caregiver.
When I handed Oliver over today, I quickly returned to my car and I cried. A lot. Not because I would miss his presence in the condo (because, really, he stressed out my two girl cats and caused one to have a UTI and was always knocking stuff over and sloshing water from the water-bowl on the floor…), but because I felt like that that was it …. the final connection between someone I’d loved more than I thought I could love another individual and I was done — no more. He’d played with Oliver. Cuddled him. Fed him cheese. Asked about his well-being even after he’d left us. Now Oliver was gone.
Forgotten.
Everyone hopes they’re worthy of a memory, a glimmer of a story, a daydream. We all want to be thought of at some point. But how do we know we are?
Over the years I’ve learned that holding shit in is just not good for anyone. If I think about you, dream about you, feel love/hate towards you; I’m gonna tell you. I wish more people were like that, if I’m honest. Most hold it all inside till the “right moment.”
That “right moment” isn’t ever going to happen. Sorry to be the bearer of bad news.
No one wants to be forgotten.
I’m the first to admit that I recently posted a quote saying, “Sometimes we survive by forgetting.” I don’t disagree. Forgetting is an absolute gem when trying to forget a certain time or occurrence in your life. But I can’t forget the people involved.
Don’t let the universe make you forgettable, but don’t be so available that you become insignificant.
drivingmsmiranda
Driving MsMiranda's Blog 
Wow what a good reading, I don’t have a fear of being forgotten but I have a fear of being not liked. I have tried very hard with the badass way of accept me of go away and it is not working. My wife follows that principle but I can’t seem to do it like she does. She had a complicated, very complicated childhood and didn’t live in a home like I did with June and Ward Cleaver (Leave it to Beaver). She had it tough, a mother that don’t give a fuck and she lost her Dad at a early age and was sent to live with her Grandmother. Maybe that is why she has such a strong personality and is what keeps me going and helps me thru difficult times. I constantly have a fear of not being liked and accepted by co-workers, friends, new acquaintances, and I guess I will say family. I was the band geek and technology nerd when I was in high school. I was constantly bullied by classmates in a society of no ANTI-BULLING rules, laws, or ordinances that are in place today. If the youth of today had to go thru what I did in my four years of high school they would have never made it past the first day. I believe that this is what is causing these insecurities that I have today. I am like you I can count the girlfriends I had in high school on 1 finger and a few more for the college years. Making friends is a very difficult thing to me, and it seems to be even more difficult for us a couple to. It is hard for me to deal with the fact that I can actually count my close friends on 2 fingers and the ones who want to use me on both hands. I don’t understand what the issue is. Maybe something is wrong with me, I don’t get it.