Not Forgotton

I'm not afraid of dying (assuming I don't die in the hands of a psychopath), but I am afraid of being forgotten. It will be as if my fingerprints on the fabric of life were dusted off, swept up, and taken out with the trash; that all the particles that made up my being were erased; that someone did a giant control alt delete on my life. I'm afraid of what it means to be forgettable. This fear pushes me to live a life full of meaning, to try to do good to those around me. This fear also makes me say the names of those I lost out loud, ensuring my loved ones that they are not forgotten.

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