You told me that I should just stop caring about everything, and the moment you said that I woke up inside and realized that’s exactly what you did. Never have I come to such a hurtful explanation, seeing that all this time it was because you had stopped caring, yourself.
And worst of all, it was mostly me you stopped caring about.
Some people don’t smile because they are going to die, and life is going to continue without them. They are selfish and do not want to share themselves with the world. I smile because I am going to die, and life is going to continue without me. I smile at every person I see, and with each smile, I give a little piece of myself away. I will continue to smile at everyone until the day I die, because I am selfish. I want to be remembered long after I am gone, and I haven’t done enough to erect statues or have books written about me. Perhaps one of the people I smile at will tell their friends about the pretty blonde teenager who said thank you and skipped as she left the store. Perhaps one of the people I smile at will tell their lover about the pretty blonde teenager who laughed from somewhere deep in her heart at the tiniest of jokes and how it made them feel better, if only for a moment. Perhaps one of the people I smile at will tell their grandkids about the pretty blonde teenager who was grateful and patient and so full of life that she had no choice but to pour it out upon those around her. And maybe, just maybe, those friends and lovers and grandkids will be inspired, by the pretty blonde teenager who smiled, and I won’t be forgotten.