This is a story of a girl, lonely since the day the dust was given life. How deathly afraid she was to return to that dust. How deathly afraid she was to tell her family that she felt alone, even in their arms. How could she tell them she had no friends?
Those people she wished she knew, those people who she wished would just remember her name. Those people that really shouldn't have mattered at all.
Every last breath of her soul snuffed out, crystalised personalities, smiles, laughs, humanity, blanketed by false securities given by every friend she had.
Do you still want someone to say goodnight to you? To talk to you everyday, dream of you, give you their all, to climb in that hole of yours after you.
After you realize you aren't who they think you are and attempt to claw out of your hole? Leaving them alone.
If so, the night will come, and they will return as dust upon your shoulder.
A final goodnight, a last blanket with a whisper of your name, and an
I love you. Still.
My story was always about you, and you alone.