Late nites and insecurities

The Husband and I came back home at 2am after a long-drawn discussion with some of his mates.
Lying on our cool, comfortable and well-used bed and with the lights off, we drifted in and out of conversations, not quite ready yet to sleep. We talked about some ideas for my experimental photo series which i'm going to title 'Anatomy' and fished out some words from our conversations which i can use for my poems.

Suddenly in my head popped a nasty thought. Its one of my famous insecurity-driven kind of thoughts, of which I seem to have an entire filing cabinet in my head packed full of.

I asked The Husband; do you think i'll ever amount to anything? do you think my entire life will sum up to something...significant?
He thought for awhile and tried the assuring tack by saying he hopes i will eventually amount to a happy person.
But i dont think happiness is a relevant equation in this issue. For me, happiness and fulfilment is separate for I can imagine that i may be happy yet, unfulfilled.
I'm not satisfied with his answer, but there's another day, a better time to argue over this issue than 2am in the morning. I didnt wish to spoil this peaceful mood we were enjoying.

I'm not sure why i need to feel like my life has to be worth something.
It seems tragic to not leave a lasting impact on anything or anyone.
After i'm gone, will i just be as forgettable as dry dust?