Bookmark #199

To be honest, I didn’t want anyone to remember me. My deepest desire was to be forgotten in the crowds, and live a rather understated life. My reasoning was that there wasn’t a significant reason to do otherwise.

But, if someone does want to remember me, I want them to remember me as a season, particularly autumn. A perpetual autumn, carefully balancing both life and the possibility of death. I want them to remember me as a Wednesday evening, casual on its own but also, a subtle reminder that better days are coming.

Perhaps, they could remember me as an austere grey and blue palette I usually sport. Colours that can clearly stand out but generally prefer not to, always trying to let something else take the stage while they serve as a simple background. Or it could be the time right after the golden hour, perfect for walking if you prefer a soft breeze along with a trailing sun as it hides slowly engulfed by a myriad of colours.

You could remember me as the pale blue sky right before a storm, biding patiently, delaying on its own the very havok that is its nature, failing, and exploding into a loud burst eventually. Or as the single ray of light peeking right after, for the storm’s only intention is often its necessity to begin anew.

Perhaps, a penny lost on the subway train fits the bill. Riding on and on, station to station, never knowing where it belonged or to whom, waiting to be picked by someone, and yet, never being chosen. Being lost instead, endlessly, and still retaining its value.

Of course, you could remember me as a lukewarm cup of black coffee, dark and slightly bitter, leaving a slight aftertaste lingering behind as it fades away. But then, I’d much rather prefer you never remembered me at all. I wanted to be forgotten like a memory lost.

You know, that one memory we reminisce of years later, and go “ah, that was a day, and we were so young, and life was beautiful, and there was so much hope.” Then, we smile a little and forget about it, never to remember it ever again. I want them to remember me as that very smile, maybe.

Perhaps, just that and nothing else at all.