I didn’t think I’d ever write again. I gave up on it—on myself, honestly. Life got loud, and I got tired. I thought the dream was done. But somehow, even after walking away, the words came back. The Ones I’ll Never Remember wasn’t planned. It just poured out of me one night when I finally let myself feel everything I’d buried. I write now because I need to. Because there’s still something in me that refuses to stay silent. If you’ve ever felt like giving up, this story’s for you too.