“What’s your name again?” He asks me. “Have we met before?” He asks me. Yes we’ve met. I remember the first time I saw you up close. I was too scared to look into your eyes so I just looked at your hands. I could’ve looked at them all day. They were beautiful. Not in a soft and polished kinda way, but a strong and rough way. It’s like they told stories of your manhood and all I wanted to do was put them up to my face and listen to what they had to say. But you ask me… “What’s your name?” I guess you were all business. Filming for your job and I was just a prop. A nameless plain unimportant prop. You had to edit over an hour of footage with me in the background. Twirling the ribbon in my Bible scared that if I looked up I would just stare at you. You had to type my name. First and last. But you ask me… “What’s your name?” I thought of us before even laying eyes on you. I remember the first time I saw your face. We’ve only been going to church together for three months now. I’ve only been staring at you every Sunday for three months now. But you ask me… “What’s your name?” Your profile popped up on my Facebook and I thought it was fate. I wasn’t looking for your profile. I didn’t even know your name yet. I lost sleep because of you. It wouldn’t surprise me if I said your name in my sleep. I checked your socials like an old man checks the morning paper. But you ask me… “What’s your name?” Don’t worry about my name, if you don’t know it now you will never learn it. If you wanted to remember my name you would have. So don’t waste my time with asking me now. “WHAT’S YOUR NAME?” My name is worthless unlovable invisible. But I don’t say any of this out loud. I tell you my name while I feel my heart tighten. My name is… But once I tell you my name you repeat it like it’s a question. It’s like a song I want to play on repeat until I get sick of it. I want to hear you say my name over and over and over again. But you won’t. You have another girl’s name to say. While you forget mine, I remember yours like a bad song I wish I never heard. A song that’s so bad it’s good. What’s my name… Maybe my name isn’t worth remembering.
When I feel unimportant because I am not known for some great achievement, I remind myself the purpose of living is not to achieve greatness but to strive for my joy and happiness. The question I ask myself in the present-moment is not “Am I important?” and not “Am I great?” but I ask “Am I joyful and happy?”.
I was told I talk too much so I never made a sound My voice fading until buried six feet underground I was told I was annoying, that I should just shut up And people wonder why I'm so quiet I would try to speak over the ocean waves I gave up, no one interested in what I had to say My voice now but a whisper floating on the wind You wouldn't hear it unless you really listened. But no one did and no one ever would Because no one really cared about the girl and didn't see why they should.
I'm the girl that suddenly stopped talking because I felt like I was bothering people.