Always, omi

Part 1

06/25/20

Hello.

Sakusa Kiyoomi is what you say my name was, or Omi-kun, as you had called me in your sing-song voice earlier, and you are Miya Atsumu. You introduced yourself as my fiancé and showed me the ring on your middle finger. You told me you kept mine at home and that you'd get it later. Home, you said, was our shared apartment for the past four years we've been together. It didn't make me less confused.

You told me I had amnesia; that I lost my memories. When I asked you why, you explained what happened— a car accident— and I immediately looked at my casted leg. You told me that I may have to get it amputated. I barely know who I am, what my situation is, my head is probably heavy with medication. Being greeted with news like that— I didn't handle it well. But you told me this was what I would want to hear if it were the "old" me.

"Omi-kun, you would have preferred it this way, trust me. You don't like not knowing about updates and whatnot." Those were your words.

I don't remember how, but I was crying and you were crying, too, despite giving me an encouraging smile just seconds before. You held my hand and gave it kisses. It felt strange seeing a stranger's face on the man I supposedly love.

You advised me to write these letters. You told me that they would help regain my memories. I don't know how exactly, but I hope it works. It's quite unusual to see you fretting and talking towards me with an unfamiliar face, after all. It wasn't long after that you stood up to leave for work.

"I love you." You said. The words left your mouth like you had said them a thousand times— you probably have. They sounded firm, and gentle and sure, but with my memories gone, I don't love you now like I did before. I don't think I love you now, at all. I saw the hurt in your eyes when all I did was stare blankly. I'm sorry. Those words are special to me and I don't want to say them when I don't feel their weight yet. You told me you understand and waved a hand before leaving. I don't think you heard but I thanked you before you left.

Well, Atsumu, since you left for work, I have no one to talk to here except for the doctors and nurses. They keep asking me questions and honestly, it's so draining, but I have to go with it. I'd like to think of this as the first level of a game that's going to push me to wellness, if that makes sense. I am not allowed to stand up yet, and even if I were, my wrapped leg wouldn't serve its purpose. I also cannot manage to watch T.V. or open my phone without getting a headache right after. I guess I only have this journal and the open window to my left as my sources of entertainment.

My right leg is still numb and I was tempted to unwrap the bandage earlier to take a peek of what it's become. The doctors say I can still walk after the injury heals though, if the operation is successful. There was a little chance of amputation and I may have to remind you of this when you get back because you gave me a scare earlier, but it's fine. You were probably scared, too. God, I hope the operation goes well. At this point I'm all about hoping. Was I always this hopeful? I have the impression that I used to keep what I feel only to myself.

I can't wait until you're back from work. I have a lot of things I want to know about myself, about you, us, and the life I used to live.

But it's probably going to take a while, right? Will you do me a favor? Will you hold on a little longer, Atsumu? I will do my best to learn everything again, for us. If this sounds sentimental, it's probably the heart's doing.

I'm feeling tired so I guess I should sleep. See you later, Atsumu.

Sincerely,

Omi