Memories Of Yesterday (On-Hold) (Editing)

Chapter 1: Awake *Edited

Life is supposed to full of memories and moments that will stay with you forever, ones that you will never forget. You're supposed to share them and ensure the memories will never die. You're meant to laugh, yell, or cry when deja vù hits you like a million bricks. Memories are supposed to stay and live in you forever. They're supposed to stay.

It's almost funny when you wake up and you don't remember the man sleeping next to you. You have no evidence of the entire life you have lived. Everything you shared with others and felt inside yourself was just gone, gone like when the tide of the ocean rises to wipe away the footprints left behind. When I speak the name "Kyle" it feels foreign on my tongue, misplaced.

The man in front of me every morning, drinking coffee with me, smiling in the most annoying way possible, I hold no love for him. At least none that I can remember.

I spent nearly two weeks not knowing who I am, not feeling like I belonged in my own 'house', when it occurred to me to drop the act. I screamed and shouted horrible things at him that night and I felt relief. He was just there, available for me at my convenience.

He tried to stop me, to remind me of how we met. I didn't really care. The information given to me was irrelevant. That was the past. The past me, which I no longer cared about.

All that mattered was what was right in front of me that night. Him. Him, who I didn't even know. As I walked out the door that night I felt no remorse for the words that came out of my mouth. I had no idea where I was and I had left the house with virtually nothing. I refused to go back. I don't need to admit that I was wrong and I had no reason to treat him like I did. My conscience was enough.

There was only one place that I had become somewhat familiar with in town. The other foreign word of 'Mom'.  I knew that if I went there she wouldn't ask any questions. She was the only one that I even remotely trusted.

The reason my memory had decided to say goodbye was unknown, and my 'mother' had took me to doctors for many second opinions, but to no avail.

No one could fix me. I wanted someone to fix me. Let's for the sake of time say I hadn't adapted to my old life well.