Being Forgotten

“The worst feeling isn’t being lonely but being forgotten by someone you can’t forget.”

I was browsing quotes on Pinterest the other day, (I apologize in advance for the river of quote pins that flood to your homepage, but I just can’t help myself), and this quote rang a pretty large bell with me.

I’ve had a pretty rough year in terms of love and love lost, which make me all the more excited for 2013 and a new year, and I can definitely say that this quote is 100 percent accurate.

2012 was a year of firsts for me. I fell in love for the first time (as much as I hadn’t admitted it to myself, I’m sure of it now), and I subsequently had my heart broken for the first time, unbeknownst to the heart breaker. August, September and October were hard for me, and I spent many late nights over thinking (something I am a professional at…I can give you some tips if you want), but the more the days passed, I definitely came out a stronger person.

Being heartbroken sucks, but eventually you move on. At least that’s what I’m told…I’m still waiting to be completely over it. But there are definitely a lot of things I’m sure of. You form stronger bonds with your friends, you take up new hobbies and you ultimately discover a lot about yourself that you hadn’t known. You also spend a lot of time alone. I have to admit that I got pretty accustomed to being alone, and to quote a rather overplayed song of 2012, “got addicted to a certain kind of sadness.”

But it wasn’t the being lonely that bothered me. I’m a pretty introverted person by nature and actually like spending time alone as opposed to in a giant crowd of people, so my time spent alone post-heartbreak wasn’t really anything unusual.

The thing that really got to me, though, was the thought that I was spending all of this time alone thinking about someone who most likely wasn’t thinking about me. In the words of Taylor Swift:

I bet this time of night you’re still up/And I bet you’re tired from a long, hard week/I bet you’re sittin’ in your chair by the window, looking out at the city/And I hope sometimes you wonder ’bout me.

Why do we insist on bringing ourselves down and picking through the past with a fine-toothed comb? We’re young and beautiful and there’s no reason we should be sitting at home on a Friday night with a bitter heart. These are the best years of our lives. We make mistakes. We fall in love. We fall out of love. We get hurt. We fall down. We get up. We live. We learn.

I don’t know about you, but I’m feeling 22   er…21. We shouldn’t be spending our time worrying about someone who isn’t worrying about us, and if someone is forgetting us, it’s probably better that we start to forget about them, too.

After all, we’re happy, free, confused and lonely at the same time; it’s miserable and magical.

Until next time,



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