My heart and brain are trying to work together. “Let go,” screamed the inner voice within me. I was listening, but I didn’t react. A part of me was numb or the whole of me was numb, but I tried to listen. “Let go, because holding on isn’t easy either.” Now, this was making some sense. But, I don’t remember doing anything on the basis of what made sense and what did not.
I could feel every inch and space within me go numb and it pained to raise my eyes and look at the sky above me. The light of the sky was blinding. The numbness was spreading. I could feel it flow through my nerves to different organs. Right then, my heart and brain decided not to work together. My heart jerked a beat. My chest started paining. My body released a throbbing cry to my chest every alternate second. Now, that was the only thing that was not numb. Or, was it the beginning to complete numbness?
Last I remember was falling. I fell from a flight of stairs when I fell in love. Since then, I’ve just been falling. I fell off the bar at home, I fell off in my bath-tub, I fell off the bed and so on. It has become a pattern now. Falling off by myself in as many ways I was capable of, that’s what has happened. In my dreams too, I fell off a beautiful cliff, I fell off the edge of my terrace and the last floor of the tallest building that I knew of. Well, nightmares crawled in too. I fell off a heap of our hand written letters, I fell off our stacked photo frames and off the pile of clothes we shared. It felt like I fell off the bridge of our memories. The worst nightmare was falling off his arms.
I remember my favorite memory… It was captured in a doodle I sketched, It read- “The only fall which makes me love falling” and it had me falling backwards to the ground, facing my head towards the sky and he had my hands in his hands and he’d let me feel the fall but he wouldn’t let me fall to the ground.
I miss him, I miss us and how I used to be with him.
I have a problem and I’ve accepted it. Rather, I’m learning to accept it. I have amnesia. And, the heartache was probably a side effect of my sleeping pills. But, I am doing fine. I know this because I have my diary beside me and it’s been helping me every day. I remember bits and parts and sometimes, I remember only the bitter parts.
He and I were really close. He was the closest friend I had ever had. He promised me that he was going to be the best man at my wedding. But, that didn’t happen.
I remember falling very clearly. But, that was all after the accident. I fell intentionally and sometimes, randomly. I remember shivering after being wrapped in a thick blanket during days of summer. I remember not remembering my marriage and I remember how numb I felt waking up to a stranger in bed. Now, I have started to remember to read my diary and that may help me feel less numb.
(After reading the diary):
It is like I remember half the story. I’m almost in tears now. I remember the part that makes my life sound like a cruel nightmare. But, it has been a fairy tale. My husband has always been loving and caring, he has played the keyboard for me, he has fed me food and he’s been so patient with me that I couldn’t have asked for more. And, I kept falling because of my disease. Falling in love has been the best thing that has happened to me. (Falling in love has been the best thing that has happened to me, only when I can remember all of it and all of him.) I am the luckiest human and woman on earth to have the husband I do.
He and I were really close. He was the closest friend I had ever had. He promised me that he was going to be the best man at my wedding. But, that didn’t happen because he was the man I married.
I miss him, I miss us and how I used to be with him. He is different now. He improves as a human and, I don’t. I’ll always miss ‘us’ and how I used to be with him because I want to remember more of him and less of me.
I’ve amnesia but when he walks me through the road of our memories- the conversations, doodles, photo frames and videos… I live our fairy tale every day in a new way. Life has been unfair but, I wouldn’t ask for more.
Crafted with brevity for select stories to make certain you see what others don't; sent every Friday
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