A Blurry Memory

Oh how I would love to disappear, to be able to suddenly vanish from people’s lives. Because for whatever reason, I simply can’t bear it, being known. I would like to be a blurry memory, a good, pleasant memory, but very blurry. I want to be the yellow, tinted pages of a book, a book that very few people choose to open. I want to be forgotten art, hidden away in a dusty attic. I want to be old love letters put away in a rose box. I want to slowly fade away until I’m forgotten. I want to be alone with my thoughts and not worry about being everything I’m not.