Dangerous Diaries

Chapter 11 - La Tortura

Moiety:  One of two equal parts.  He was my half.  Michael was my other half and no matter what was said on the TV, who he married, who accompanied him on red carpets and trips to Africa, I just knew he was mine.  I wouldn't let myself believe my obsession with the deep affection I once was given was in any way futile.  Our love affair was no dalliance.  It was very much meaningful. 

But some time ago, my father once schooled me on amnesia, the loss of memory.  I know a head injury can cause it, the most obvious one, but I also know a traumatic event can cause one to forget something in particular.  It's called dissociative amnesia.  I've said it before and I'll say it again: Losing Michael was torturous.  It hurt me physically, emotionally, and mentally. 

José smashed my head through a window.  I remember that as clear as Michael walking out on me.  I can't really compare the two and say which was more traumatic for me.  But in a moment while dazed and high off of morphine, I made a decision. 

As soon as Kerry said José was dead, the memory of him yelling in the car came back to me.  He kept telling me I was his wife.  That's when I said aloud he was my husband.  I was simply playing off my sudden flashback. 

Then the despair came and I missed him.  I missed his love, the person he used to be.  But then another flashback of Michael hit me of when he hugged me last on stage.  He purposely broke my heart.  I didn't want it anymore.  I wanted to let go of him.  So I made him meaningless in my mind.  I told Kerry, Jenn, and the doctor that I didn't remember a relationship with Michael.

Deep down I did.  But I was trying to make my mind in its fragile state forget the love we had.  Forget the love and the heartbreak all at once.

To be honest, in that moment, I think I really convinced my brain I didn't know what they were talking about.  Michael who?

Michael

"I think it's more psychological than neurological here.   Sometimes, one wishes to forget a certain event that may have happened like being molested or a death of family member.  Here, Shakira has seemed to have suppressed the memory of ever having a relationship with you."

My stance was frozen.  I wanted to ask the doctor 'why' but I knew deep down it was a stupid question, even if the doctor was unaware of the hurt I put her patient through.  "Will she soon remember? How long is this going to last?"

With an expression of doubt, she shrugged.  "I honestly can't say, Mr. Jackson.  It all depends on her.  In some cases, it can take years but in others, all it takes is a simple reminder."

"Are you saying when she sees my face she may remember?"

Her arms crossed and she nodded her head with an optimistic smile.  "That can be likely.  You have to remember though, this is all psychological.  We ran the tests again and found no damage to her brain."  Her words seemed to be coded.

"You think she's lying?"  Truthfully, all that I put Shakira through, I wouldn't put it past her.

"Uhh."  She giggled with a head shake.  "I didn't say that."  She patted my shoulder and walked past me.  "Let's go see."

I followed behind her to the room.  When she opened up the door, the first thing that caught me by surprise was the amount of people in the room.  "Oh, gee," I said nervously laughing. 

"Hey, Mike," they all seemed to say, the ones I was familiar with.  There was Frank, Jennifer, Darryl, even Greg.

Then there was her mother and father and her best friend Kerry who hated me.  "Hi," I said to the three of them with a nod.