I By My Name


Out of no apparent reason, I suddenly was possessed by a need to be in contact with someone who knew me; someone who would know me in person, call me by my birth name and recognize my very own face.  This loss of identity kept me awake at night, seized by a sudden urge to reach out immediately and touch someone, perhaps ask “do you see me, do I exist at all?”.

I seemed up to now to have lived a fabricated life, populated with only one person who do not seem to need to even call out my name.  Our house was always empty, I could not even peer through the window panes to see one brittle branch of a single dead tree.  We drifted or stalked throughout the rooms, speaking aloud as if to our own selves, but otherwise could be mistaken as conversing to one another.  Years passed by the wispy skies that wrapped themselves around us; there were only daylight with not one single night.

Our thoughts were always out, they hung in the air without anybody taking heed, our steps unfaltering, always headed toward a direction somewhere to the front of our selves.  Windows would flow by us, they were the only visual objects we see in this life filled with echoes and glittering three dimensional space.

I was anxious to the point where I changed my mind every minute, the only thing I searched and reached out for, unconsciously or not, was the someone calling my name, lighting up a smile in his or her approach and pressing a kiss upon each of my cheeks.

“Hi” I would reply, and feel myself warm up from deep within, a reciprocal smile dancing on my lips with a general feeling of delight.  Never would there be confusion as to whether I was talking to myself or to the one other person who resided with me in that infinite space.

I found myself suddenly alight with excitement, fumbling in trying to figure out who would remember the name I myself had long forgotten.  What had that name meant, who was it that lived in that name?  And to the people who nonchalantly called out that name, who was it they had in mind?  Do I have another chance in choosing who I can be?  Maybe I just want to fall into the person that they knew me by, remembering them the way they recalled me, recollecting the life we had together by simply having an innocent conversation.

For a few minutes I fell out of the the invisible cube that I was bound to for years, bled over the rigid frame with this unreal manifestation.  Or maybe I forgot who I was over the years, maybe I lost myself, but do if you knew me, call me by my name.

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