On A Name

Some words are heavier than others.

Look at the word apple. It’s an easy word. A is for apple, right? You can say the word without thinking about it because it’s practically weightless. There are so many words like that, words so light we can easily replace them with another.

Now look at the word love. Heavier, right? At times it can be almost impossible to get that word out. And it’s harder to replace.

I often think about the weight of words because the heavier the word, the more you have associated behind it. Because it’s really the memories that make the word hard to pick up.

And I know that.

But I still can’t say it. I can’t force out those words because they weigh more than I can manage. They’re the heaviest part of me. They weigh so much I thought I’d be crushed by now.

How can something so simple be choking me on the inside?

Maybe it says more about me than it does about him.

Time heals all wounds has never sounded more fake. The words are hollow and light; easy to throw around, easy to hold on to. And maybe that’s why we cling to them. They don’t weigh us down the way our secrets do. They don’t threaten to crush us whenever we stop to breathe.

I don’t want to ask for these words to be lighter. I’m selfish enough to still cling to those memories.

I want to ask to be stronger. So that his name won’t pin me down as I try to move forward.

So tell me.

How much do you think your name weighs?

Does it depend?

In some people it might flow out easily, where they never give a second thought to the strength needed to lift it. And yet, in others it can hold them down for years as they struggle to move with the weight of it.

Maybe that’s how it’s supposed to go. Maybe that’s what makes sense. Some names have greater impact because some people have a greater impact.

And maybe some day I’ll be able to withstand the weight of his words in my mind.

But until then I’m still working on walking with the weight of his name in my heart.