Insignificant
I know. I know I'm not as important to you as you are to me. That much is very clear. There will be people who can fill your time, fill it with moments and memories you'll never get enough of. There will be other lovers who might make you forget what it was like to be loved by me. There will be a completely different life to live, one that I might not be part of. Yet, there's no one else I'd rather give all my love, time, and words to. Yes you might hurt and grieve in my absence for a while, but eventually someone else will fill in that vacancy and it will get back to normal. But you know, no matter how hard I try to convince myself that it's not a big deal to be forgotten, a tiny part of me still hopes, still believes that maybe, just maybe, I matter to you as much as you do to me. And I'd like it very much to know that if nothing at all, if I wasn't here someday, it would make at least a tiny bit of difference to you. That if you ever happen to hear my name or come across something that would remind you of me, you'd just stop dead in your track and double over from the pain of missing m, instead of just giving it a tiny thought and brushing it off. Maybe I'm being selfish. But you know, the thought terrifies me. The thought that you are nothing short of the best to ever exist in this universe whereas I am so easily replaceable
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