Speak

This is a passage I wrote down in an old journal a while ago. It starts off as a list of my memories with hidden stories tied to them, a cry for attention. Because at the time I felt unimportant, overlooked, much like a dusty book of tales long forgotten on a shelf in a library. But it transitions into a message to myself to dust myself off and open myself up to readers, rather than wait for them to approach. Looking back at this, I find it ironic and sad how I never did speak up about any of those memories. And in the end I did lose that friend. The moral? Written words can only go so far. Spoken word must take a turn to make a difference at some point.

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I've heard the sound of thousands of raindrops.
I've heard my parents argue and yell to a point where it brought me to tears.
I've played with my Barbie dolls by myself countless times.
I've fallen down the stairs trying to play a board game by myself.
I've built a fort out of  covers and sheets.
I've almost completely built an igloo by shoveling into a pile of snow with a spoon.
I've received a letter from the White House.
I've received a letter from my own sister confessing that she in fact does love me.
I've escaped into a section under the dining room table when things got too tough.
I've hidden under sheets and behind doors and in closets out of fun - and fear.
I've done a lot. And I want to tell you all about it.
I want you to care...

I live.
I'm important, right?

Speak.

You have a mouth, use it!
Instead of being silent and not saying anything when your best friend unintentionally hurts you, speak.
Because silence won't fix anything. If anything, it only keeps you two further apart.
Next thing you'll know you'll lose her just like you lost Blake...

Be assertive.