I am the one whom everyone forgets.
Fleeting glances, Fleeting friendships, fleeting concerns for the self-sacrificing friend.
Tack on the smile.
Extend the helping hand.
Bind shut the mouth that is sullied with one's own petty hurts and struggles. Heh.
Ignore it all. Hold them down, clamped down under lock and key for no one to witness, no one to be exposed to.
Those who help others with their troubles cannot have troubles of their own.
And, as a result, I am not memorable. I am the flicker of bile rising in your throat, I am the brief horror you feel at a drowning child on the news, following a story of the thousands of fatalities in the newest war.
I help you now so you can forget me later.