WHEN THE SUN FORGOT MY NAME

They say the sun rises for everyone. That morning, it didn't rise for me. light slipped through the thin curtains of my room, touching the walls, the floor, everything-except me. I lay still on my bed staring at the ceiling, listening to the distant sounds of life waking up outside. people were moving forward. Iwasn't. My phone buzzed beside me another message I didn't open. Another reminder of a world I no longer felt part of. College felt like lifetime ago, dreams even further. Somewhere along the way, I had lost my name-lost the version of myself that believed tomorrow would be better. I finally sat up, my body heavy with exhaustion I couldn't explain. The mirror across the room reflected someone familiar but yet distant. Same face. Same eyes. But the spark was gone replaced by quiet confusion and unanswered questions. Outside , laughter echoed down the street. Someone was living the life I had imagined for myself. I pressed my arms together, took a slow breath ,and tried to steady the ache in my chest. "I'm still here," I whispered to no one. The words felt too small, but they were true. As the sun climbed higher, I realized something painful yet honest: life hadn't ended-I had simply paused. And maybe, just maybe, this was the beginning of remembering who I was before the world convinced me I was nothing. I stood by the window, letting the light brush through my skin for the first time that day. The sun hadn't forgotten to rise. It was waiting for me to look up.