Let's clear the air: half of my friends only know I exist because of you. Came out of the blue. Who knows where you found me but we all know where I ended up. I'm not complaining. It didn't work out, we went our separate ways in the end. My only problem is that our separate ways wound up facing the same direction and I'm right beside you, never got far enough to establish identity solo. Everyone knows every detail of every side of the story and everyone says something about us when us hasn't been us in twelve months. I am concerned they don't know who I am when you're not around. What if all I ever do is get remembered for loving you? I'm at it again: trynna deal with myself the best way I know how. I'll make a list of everything I don't like in myself and sit, reading it over, throwing self-congratulations like handfuls of coins in the river. For knowing my faults I am wildly adept at not actually changing a thing. Like ants in a circle, I follow the faint scent of hope left behind as a reflex. I only use effort when I'm helping you notice where you could go right this time, leaving nothing for me, only the footprints I track through the bar and forgetting I'm chasing myself. A ghost in the future got stuck in the past. What if all I ever do is get remembered for loving you? I watch all my friends take out their pain in a way that fulfills their goals. They've all become artists and I'm just a bedroom guitar getting stoned with their mothers. They're chasing their dreams while mine have been haunted with politics, violence, and reasons to turn off the light, give my one final speech in the dark and close up shop, move to the suburbs, work at a sports bar, shut myself up with the tv. So remember my name. Yes, I have to ask, because in the past they've confused me for you. You said I'm important. Guess not important enough for stability in how you treat me. You said I'm important. Well what have I ever done? What if all I ever do is get remembered for loving you?