Not to be Remembered by All

I have never stopped moving—
even when it felt like I had.
Step by step,
day by day,
I kept going.

I can’t say I was living.
But I was surviving.
That’s the most I could do.

Survive the harshness of this world.
Move forward
with the weight dragging on my shoulders.
Through pain.
Through regret.
I walk a difficult path.

And I’m not trying to overstate my struggle—
I know I’m not alone in this.
Others have walked it too.
It’s not just me.

I wish it was.
Because I wouldn’t wish this on anyone else.

This is hell.
Not the one after death,
but the one I have to live through.
Demons I fight daily.
Heat I endure constantly.

This…
this is going to be the end of me.
It’s going to consume me whole—
my dreams,
my joy,
my life—
if any such things ever existed.

I’ll lose it all.
And I’ll fade into a memory—
forgotten,
lost in the quiet pages of time.
Someone who was never anything,
never anyone.
Too insignificant to be remembered.

That’s the future I see.
That’s the path I’m walking.

But fuck that.

I might not move mountains.
I might not pull the sword from the stone.
I might never change the world,
or shift the skies.

But I will move forward.

I’ll be the best son.
The best husband.
The best father.

For everything I’m not to the world—
I’ll be something
to the people I love.

I don’t need to be remembered by everyone.
Just by the ones who matter.