The Ones Who Forgot Me

 -by Ryan

There’s this moment that hits you somewhere between your first year down and your third—when the letters stop, the phone list gets smaller, and the visits dry up. You don’t really understand loneliness until you get locked up and realize the silence on the outside is louder than the chaos in here.

That’s when you learn who’s really riding with you.
That’s when you figure out who loves you for you… and who only loved what you could do for them on the outside.

They say “don’t do the crime if you can’t do the time.”
What they don’t say is that the time doesn’t just mean the years—it means the people who disappear with them.

Family.
Friends.
People who said they’d ride for life.
Gone. Just like that.

At first, you make excuses for them.

“They’re busy.”
“They probably didn’t know where to write.”
“They’ll come around.”

I ain’t here to guilt-trip nobody.
People got lives. I get that.
But don’t get it twisted—you feel it.

But after a year and a half of silence? After birthdays pass without a card, holidays go by without a phone call, and your name becomes something people flinch at—
You stop making excuses.
You start realizing who’s real.

Most of my so-called people? They disappeared after my first stretch.
Family. Friends. Folks I thought would never turn their back.

And it wasn’t always quiet either. Some didn’t just fall off—they made sure to cut me deep on the way out.
Cold words. Harsh messages.

“You chose this.”
“You’ll never change.”
“You’re dead to me.”

That shit sticks with you.
Even when you try to brush it off.
Even when you act hard and say, “F** ‘em.”*

It hurts. More than I’ll admit out loud most days.
Because the truth is, I didn’t just lose my freedom—I lost people I thought were mine forever.

And yeah, I messed up. I know that.
I hurt people. I lied. I used. I made choices that landed me in here.
But some of the people who turned their backs? They weren’t hurt. They were just uncomfortable being reminded that someone they know ended up in a cage.

That’s the thing no one talks about:
People don’t just forget you. They pretend you never existed.

And for a while, I let that break me.
Every time mail call came and my name wasn’t on the list.
Every time I sat by the tablet hoping someone—anyone—would reach out.
Every time I realized the ones I loved didn’t love me enough to show up when it counted.

But here’s the shift:
Now I know… they’re not my people anymore.

Here’s what I learned:
Not everybody’s meant to make it to your finish line.

I wasted too much time begging folks to care. Writing letters they never answered. Calling numbers that never picked up.
Until it finally clicked—
The ones who forgot me aren’t my people anymore.

Now I’ve got my wife – a woman who shows up for me day in and day out, at ALL hours of the day/night, even when I’m not easy to love. I’ve got my own family.
I don’t need to chase ghosts.

Being married, building my life with her—that’s what made me finally stop bleeding for the ones who already let me die in their minds.

It still hurts some days, don’t get me wrong.
But I’m learning to heal from it.
Because when I do come home—and trust me, I will—I’m not wasting a single second on the ones who forgot me.

So if you forgot me?
If you walked away when I needed you most?
Stay gone.

Because I’m not bitter—I’m focused.
And I’m done chasing ghosts when I’ve got real love holding me down.

I’ll be too busy building something real with the ones who never did.

The ones who forgot me taught me something I didn’t expect:
I don’t need everyone. I just need the right ones. I need HER – My Dragonfly!