When I’m gone I want to be remembered. Not for something amazing that I did, or something I might have said. No! I want to be remembered as the girl who broke hearts and lived life to the fullest and dreamed big.
I don’t care if the world knows my name I just want to know that one man loved me as hard as possible that it hurt him. I want to know that my name was etched on his heart, carved out by nine-inch nails. I want the letters so deeply etched on him that no other woman’s love will ever compare to mine.
I don’t have children that I am leaving behind so that doesn’t apply here. But if I did I would want them to just live. Don’t give into the pressures of the world, just be who you are and don’t expect the world to care.
I look down at the paper I have been scribbling on for the past hour. The words are all there but they seem to not make any sense as I read them.
A frown pulls at my lips just as a nurse waltz into my room
“You look lovely today Ms. Olivier.”
I look up into her warm brown face. The bright gleam from her smile is almost blinding as it is infectious. I grin back at her.
“I feel lovely.” I lie.
She shakes her head as though she can feel how fake and flat my words are then busy about with my tubes and IV drippings.
“What are you working on?”
I glance back at the paper in front of me. This was supposed to be a letter I gave to my brother whenever he gets here. Since he is the only one who was willing to get on a plane to come see me.
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