Ocean full of Secrets

Part I_1

My soul is full of longing
for the secret of the sea,
and the heart of the great
ocean sends a thrilling pulse
through me.

- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

28th of January 2014

Hi, my name is Cassandra Mary Sinclair and I'm already starting to regret this. I'm not crazy, however a lot of people would claim otherwise. And if you knew my story you'd probably think along the same lines. Just like my therapist and pretty much everyone else. He is the one who suggested doing this in the first place. With "this" I mean writing a diary. He said it might help me with figuring things out and making some sense out of this complete mess of thoughts that is my brain.

"Temporary amnesia" is what the doctors called it. Craziness is what their eyes said. He didn't even explain any further about how temporary this particular case of temporariness would be. Everybody except for me seems to be aware of the events that took place that Tuesday night in January. However, nobody thought it necessary to let me in on the joke. Nobody has ever bothered to share their insights with me.

"You have to figure that out on your own" seems to be a very popular excuse lately. And apparently, writing all these thoughts down here is supposed to help me do just that. Only I cannot see how. Don't get me wrong here. I very much believe in the power and magic of the written word, however, I still slightly doubt its usefulness in this particular case. So, honestly, I can't see how this is going to help me, but I'm willing to give it a try.

The day my brother left for college, he was acting really weird around me, like he did ever since the incident. Even though this would apply to almost everyone I know, his sudden change in behaviour hurt me particularly much. You have to understand, Oliver and I, we weren't just siblings, we were more than that. We were partners in crime, accomplices, trustees, each other's witnesses and more than anything we could always count on each other for support in any form, regardless of the other person having done something wrong or not even sharing what the support was needed for. He was always there for me.

However, this time even he let me down.

"I'm really sorry Cassie, but I could never forgive myself if I told you. It might sound selfish, actually it is selfish for sure, but I couldn't bear to be the one to break this to you. And who knows, maybe you're even better off not knowing. After all, temporary amnesia is nothing else but your own mind protecting you from some terrible, unbearable trauma. And I wouldn't be surprised if it came back to you all by itself once you're ready. I'm really sorry sis."

When he said that I noticed his voice quiver ever so slightly and I could've sworn his eyes got watery. The last and only time since our childhood that I saw him cry was when our mother died, but this was different. I can't imagine what must've happened that brought tears to my brother's eyes, but whatever it was, it makes me want to cry as well. And I don't even know what it was. Great.

Yours,
Cassie