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Some mornings I wake up and I wish I hadn’t. I wish my eyes stayed closed. I wish I had quietly slipped away in the night. I wish that all the threads holding me in this world had snapped or been let go. I wish I could float away. Fade away. I wish I ceased being. I wish I was forgotten or invisible. I wish I was ghost. I wish I was dead. But not the kind of dead, where dying means you’ve left behind a wound that people grieve over and can’t forget. I want to be forgotten. Fading. Fading away would be nice. Like in Back to The Future. When Marty’s parents seem like they might not hook up and he starts to fade. Ceasing to be.
