who would cry for me? who would actually notice?
obviously, i must have been feeling rather emo and unloved at the time. probably spent the 30mins prior to that thought thinking how ugly and despicable i was, disappointed because i got a B for math while my best friend managed an A or upset about what the boy i liked said or didn’t say to me that day. whatever.
anyway, that thought crossed my mind again a couple of days ago. just as it did, i looked over at my 4-month-old niece, whom i was holding in my lap. her eyes were fixed at some imaginary spot in the sky and when her gaze met mine, i couldn’t help but smile at her. it felt amazing when she shyly returned one of her own to me.
i realised that if something were to happen to her (touch wood no no no no no), my whole family would weep. the neighbours that see her every day when my sister takes her out for a stroll would miss her. our friends who have met her would at least feel a pang of sadness in their hearts. i know i’d bawl my eyes out.
if my little niece, at just 4 months old, could leave such an impression on so many people’s lives by simply existing – sleeping, eating, crying, playing – how much more of an impression must i have left by doing more than only breathing these 24 years?
right there and then, i knew that it was foolish to even consider the possibility of not being missed if i were gone. it’s an indulgent and selfish thought, but i guess it’s little realisations like that that keep this emo kid cheerful.