The YSA Creep

I have the fantastic opportunity (for the last 8 months) to work as early morning custodial.  I spend three hours Monday through Friday mornings cleaning bathrooms.  This is my reflection time.  I think a lot during those hours.  So, this poem came from some of my memories of being in a YSA ward.  I have only been in a YSA ward for three years, but I have a few words to say.  Beware the "poem" is unedited and not revised.  I didn't follow any guidelines.  I just wrote.  Also, the names used are not specific to the event.  Have fun!

The YSA Creep

When I was born, I was blessed with a gift.

It’s called a memory.

I remember people’s names.

But this gift also comes with a curse:

Invisibility

I remember people’s names in exchange for their inability to see me.

I go to an FHE for the entire ward.

I don’t like these much.

Because this happens:

A girl comes up to me to introduce herself.

I know her.

Anna

She is my roommate’s best friend and comes over all the time.

She says,

“I have never seen you before.  Are you new in the ward?”

I’ve been here for three months.

I see her but she obviously cannot see me. 

My roommates often ask me about the other members of the ward:

“What’s that girl’s name?  In the blue sweater?”

Eliza

“What’s Tanner’s last name?”

Turner

“And, who’s the guy with the American flag tie?”

Joseph

Don’t ask me how I know.

I’m just a creep.

I remember people and they don’t remember me.

My crush is standing next to me.

We have introduced ourselves to each other before.

Thrice

He turns to me.

He opens his mouth

“I don’t think we have met.  What’s your name?”

Crush extinguished.

He doesn’t know who I am but I know who he is. 

Thomas is sitting next to me in Sunday school today.

He reads his scriptures silently.

The teacher invites us to meet our neighbors.

Oh no!

Thomas gave a talk two months ago.

I still remember

The story of his dad twisting his ankle.

I’m a creep.

I try to forget.

Not happening.

I remember his story but he doesn’t know I am even sitting next to him.

Then one day,

I see Rachel.

But is it Rachel?

Her name cannot possibly be Rachel because that is her roommate’s name.

I forgot a name!

I say,

“Hi, I know we have met several times.  What is your name?”

Rachel

Oh, that was her name.

I guess I slightly remembered but she walks away before a conversation.

Now I’m in a new ward.

Fresh start.

I don’t see anyone that I know.

Wait.

Yes, there is Samantha from my ward two years ago.

I go to talk to her!

“Hi, I’m Samantha! What’s your name?”

I guess she doesn’t know we were in the same ward.

I introduce myself.

I’m the creep.

She doesn’t know who I am but I know a whole lot about her.

Maybe I should go back to a family ward.

There, I am not entirely expected to socialize.

It’s an idea.

The people who remember me are my family.

So, someone in the ward would know me.

That is where I know people and people know me.

My sister comes up to me.

She wears a very mischievous look upon her face.

She stands there.

She gawks.

“Excuse me, I should remember this, but what is your name?”

Seriously?

But, I know she knows.

She was blessed with the same gift that I was blessed with.

She has the same curse.

This is where I am understood and I understand her.