A name is just a name. Or so he thought.
Of the many people with the same name, of the hundreds and thousands out there. This name is just a construct. This particular name of this particular person.
The Name. Of 8 English letters. Or 19 Chinese strokes.
Names. Values that man give. Meaning that is borne out of the scribblings. The time the person is born, the gift of parents to the child. Life is given to the name, when it is spoken. And it represents the person.
A name is still just a name. Or so he thought.
He wonders why, two simple words, could still affect him. The Name
3 times at the dinner. 1 time during training. Mentioned so casually and randomly by others. The intonation and inflection of how The Name came out from their mouths. As sound waves reaching his ears. His brain processes that sound.
With it came emotions, that threatened to flood. Like a dam that threatens to break. Torrents of emotions.
A name is really a name. Or so he thought.
He felt awkward. Slowly the awkwardness turned into inconsolable sadness. Humans are strange creatures!~
How he would give, just to call The Name out again. With affection and fondness.
Just for a brief moment his heart stopped. When he heard The Name
Just for a brief moment, he called out loud. Shouting silently. Echoing in the depths of his heart.
Just for a brief moment, he thought he saw her turn. Though it was just a wistful mirage. Hooks etching into his heart, tore away this haze.
A name is just a name. Or so he thought.
The Name. He may never call it in her face again.
That is what saddens him the most.
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