​To Be Remembered

“To be remembered is to be loved.” I read that once, although I couldn’t tell you where. To be remembered is to be loved, to be loved is to be known, to be known is to be understood. So deeply that every breath is muddled. Impossible to distinguish. Your mind as much theirs as it is your own, your body their second vessel, your souls intertwined within each other. But is that true.

If I am not loved – will I truly not be remembered?

My existence a mere drop in the ocean, tick of a clock. Time ever passing, moving steadfast, no hesitance in its forever powerful gait. My sentence meagre in its possession of space amidst the plethora of pages in the book of existence. No note on this page, no marking in colour or highlighting to come back to. Albeit morbid I wonder what would my life be reduced to.

Was I simply no-one? Could I have been someone?

There is no way to know. The end comes as quickly as they say, like a fog upon a barren forest. Slinking through the green without a sound to inform of the inevitable. A silent knight moving only to complete the task at hand.

So I ask…what is it to be remembered?