What Makes Someone Real?

Sometimes I wonder where my memories actually come from.

I know I was there for the moments I write about, but when no one else seems to notice them, I start to wonder if I just imagined it.

Being in the middle means people don’t always look at you directly.

You’re not the first to do something, but you’re not the last and sometimes you’re not really much of anything at all.

I watch Noriko carry the weight of responsibility, and everyone praises him for it.

I watch Rika quietly create her art, and people are amazed when she shares it.

I watch Fumiko play the role of the baby, and they laugh at his jokes even when I know he’s hurting inside.

But Me? I slip between them and fill the empty spaces.

I help where I can, listen when no one else does, and give up pieces of myself if it means they’ll feel a little lighter.

I love them with everything I have, but sometimes I wonder if anyone sees how much of me I’m giving away.

There are nights where I sit by the window, tea cooling in my hands, and I think maybe I’m not even real.

Maybe I’m just the glue between everyone else’s lives, the quiet parts that make their stories hold together.

What if my memories aren’t even mine, but just the echoes of what I notice in everyone else?

Still, I keep showing up, I keep pouring myself into routines, caring and into the little things no one sees.

Because even if I don’t always feel real, the love I have for my family is and maybe that’s enough.

Journal Prompts

• Have you ever felt invisible, even in the middle of people you love?

• What parts of yourself do you give away to make others feel lighter?

• What do you think makes you real?

If you want to get to know Minato and the Parris family better, you can join The Parris Post here where I continue to tell their story through, letters, art and stickers.