It's strange how quickly people can disappear from our story. Yesterday, they felt like the center of our world, the ones who filled our days with meaning, and suddenly, they become nothing more than a passing thought. One moment you are close enough to share everything, and the next you're reduced to a name they scroll past, a memory that doesn't stop them anymore. That's the hardest part of memory, it doesn't ask us who we want to hold on to, it doesn't give us the choice of who stays. We can give someone our time, out love, our pieces of life, but we cannot control if they choose to carry us forward. And maybe that's the most painful truth of all: sometimes me remain as nothing more than a shadow in their story, even though in ours, they were once the brightest light.