“Literally sucked away by something nameless, until only a void was left.” – Roberto Bolaño, 2666
If nobody names it, maybe it’s not real. If nobody talks about it, maybe it didn’t happen. Let’s not say abandonment. Let’s not say neglect. Let’s not say sexual assault or bullying. Let’s just say you’re crazy.
I was sucked away by something nameless. What’s a void, though? Think about outer space. How can it be a void when there are so many things in it? All those stars. They’re real. Pluto is out there in the cold. It still exists, even if we don’t call it a planet anymore.
If nobody sees you, do you exist? If people see you and say nothing, if your life is full of clueless bystanders, do you exist?
There I was, at the bottom of the rabbit hole, making up stories. Until one day, years and years later, there was somebody in there with me. Does she exist if nobody else sees her? Does she exist if we don’t talk about her? She exists. I stopped being alone, and the things that sucked me away stopped being nameless.
They say you die three times: first when your heart stops, then when you’re buried or your ashes are scattered, and finally when the last person who remembers you dies.
Don’t forget me.
Haven’t I been forgotten enough? I don’t want to be dead yet. I never got to live that much. I never even dreamed about what I wanted to be when I grew up. I was too busy just getting through it. But I would have liked at least one more ice cream cone, at least one more picnic on the roof of a castle (though I’d settle for a mountaintop).
I exist, out here in the cold. Even if I don’t call myself their daughter anymore. Even if they don’t see me.
Don’t make me go back into the dark alone. Take me with you, until you go too.