Dear forgotten ones,
Most would seldom recall your existence but when I do, consider it special. In fact, I probably think of you more than most. You’re the forgotten ones: the ones that I’ve passed, studied, conversed with, or was close to. Most would not think twice about you, but I do. You are the ones I think about while driving late at night as the street lights reflect on the wet cement. You are the ones I think about when I stare at the ceiling unable to sleep, or when I hear that song or smell that smell and then it’s as if you never left. Forgotten for a moment, but never completely. I’ve never been a person that is able to forget people: their auras, what they say, how they speak and interact. I always think about people that come into my life: whether it was a simple conversation or someone I talked to daily. But life has a way of leading us to follow our own paths and destinies, and often times there are people that are only a paragraph in our book. I still think about you, forgotten ones. I still wonder how you are, what you’re doing, and if you ever think of me too. I just wanted to say that. You are not forgotten in my mind, forgotten ones.