Published in Personal - 1 min to read

A certain someone and I quite often talk about our habit of forgetting things about ourselves. Not small things, pretty big, serious things, a classic being that people might be romantically interested in us (although I am not sure if I am “forgetting” that as much as wilfully ignoring it). I forget why people like me… a lot. Like all the time. It’s sort of confusing to me to have to accept that they do, and I can sort of rationalise away a lot of little things that could be perceived as someone caring about me, until eventually something happens that can’t be construed any way other than that they care about me, and I’m forced to confront that, and to remember it.

Obviously it’s a nice feeling. I don’t want this to sound like a complaint that people love me. I think it’s more a complaint about forgetting, I wish I wouldn’t. I don’t entirely know how to stop myself though.