Day 11.

You know when you say a word, over and over and over? How it loses meaning?

Bruise, for example. Bruise I forget frequently.

Bruise bruise bruise.

Or nose.

That's another one that gets lost.

Sometimes names do.

It happens when you least expect it-- when someone introduces themselves, and for a moment

it is as though your mind has undergone the creation of a composite universe, nothingness expanding, before you remember.

Oh, it's uh, I'm _____.

And you can tell, by the set of their jaw or the twitch near their temple, that once they knew a _____. Once that word, that name meant something.

They are hoping to begin anew.

They are hoping you can pull it off.

____ ______ ______.

She knew a ____, who was always touching people. It was natural, the way she breathed. He'd twist hair, rest on shoulders.

He knew a ____, who broke his heart.

They knew a _____, who didn't say goodbye, and they knew a ____ who did.

And soon these names become people, and we forget that other people use this name. We say it it different, have you noticed? And sometimes you can get through an entire conversation only associating someone's face with them.

We're afraid.

We're afraid one day we'll wake up without labels.