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.
"How are you?" her mother asked with a big smile, walking towards me.
"I'm okay. How are you?"
She opened her arms and we embraced in a short hug. "I'm better now that my baby is okay." We both looked over at Shakira who was smiling at us. There was as short line of stitches in between her eyebrows.
"Hi, Shakira," I said waving. I was still standing by the door.
She smiled at me briefly then looked over to her friends. With her face turned to her left, I was able to see the real damage the accident caused. I softly gasped at the sight of it.
As her mother Nidia walked back over to Shakira's side, I turned to my side and looked at the doctor. "What do you think?" I whispered with my fingers in my mouth.
With squinted eyes, she nodded sideways. That meant 'no.' She didn't recollect anything.
"Mike, come sit down," Frank said patting an empty chair that sat beside his.
"I think I should go. You're probably over the visitor limit."
"There were a lot more people here before you came," he said laughing.
"Yeah. We kicked all of her assistants and what not out. We said fam' only. Frank is the only one from her team we let stay." Darryl patted Frank on the back as they shared a deep laugh.
"Please, stay," Shakira's sweet voice said to me.
I looked at her and she let our eyes make a meaningful connection this time. I could tell she had been crying. "Are you sure?" Inside, I was screaming. How could she not remember?
"I heard you came all the way from Africa to see me. Is that true?"
"Yes. Very true," I said nodding. "It was a very long flight. Nearly a full day. I came as quick I could though."
Her timid smirk made my heart skip a few beats. "It's honestly a little weird after what they told me about us but I really want you stay."
My throat became heavy and I could feel the tears ready to show. "Umm." I quickly looked away. "Sure. Can I use your bathroom?"
"Sure," she said extending her arm out to the right.
I took a quick turn for privacy. There was no strength in me to hold back the tears. I heard them all laughing on the other side of the door. I worried a joke was made of me.
"Michael?" someone said with a knock on the door.
"Yes?"
"It's Frank." Of course it's Frank.
I'd forgotten how well this man knew me. I walked to open the door. I took a step back and let him come in at his own pace. I went back to hovering over the sink as if I was going to puke.
He didn't waste time locking himself inside with me though. "Michael?" he whispered placing his hand on my back. "You okay?"
I felt trust between us again. So I shook my head shamelessly. I watched as the tears fell into the sink, creating a small growing puddle. "I don't understand this."
"I know. I don't understand it either."
"I'm hurt. Was it really that bad?"
They all erupted in laughter again.
"Are they laughing at me?"
"No," he said snickering. "What's happening is between just you and Shakira."
I snatched my fedora from my head and slammed it down in the sink out of frustration. "I can't stay here."
"You can. She wants you to."
"No, I mean I can't stay here because I can't stop crying." I stood up straight only to back up against the wall.
Frank grabbed me a paper towel. "Here."
I snatched it from him and dabbed under my eyes. "I don't want to see her right now."
"Why not?"
"It's hard for me to look at her when I know she doesn't see me in the same perspective."
Frank sighed with empty words. "I don't know, man. I'm sorry. But I'm damn sure she'll remember soon enough or she's just playing you."
"What?" I said as my eyes glued to his.
"Don't tell her I said this to you," he said pointing at me. "But hey, maybe she wants to forget you like you forgot her."
"But that's so cruel."
"What you did was cruel too in her eyes."
Someone began softly knocking on the door.
"Yeah?" Frank responded before I could.
"You okay?" My eyes nervously shut noticing it was Shakira.
"She shouldn't be out of the bed," I whispered to Frank.
He huffed walking over to the door.
"Don't open it," I begged quietly. But as soon as it swung open, I turned to face the wall in embarrassment. My eyes were now dry but I still couldn't bare the sight of her stitched face.
"What's going on in here?" she asked.
When I heard the door shut, I sighed and turned around. Now it was the three of us. "I feel sick. I'm sorry." It was a partial lie.
"Did I hurt you?" she asked holding on to the silver pole she rolled into the room with her.
"No," I said softly with a slow, tight shake of my head. It was painful as we stared each other in the eyes. I glanced at the IV stuck in her arm.
"Why are you and Frank huddled in here?"
"He said he feels sick. He's had a long flight. Do you two want to talk alone?"
Shakira looked away quickly. "Umm." She was showing me the damage once again. There were small scratches and bruises that would soon disappear but there was a long stitched cut that started from the left corner of her eye down past her cheek bone.
"I don't want to make you uncomfortable," I said quickly to ease her fear. "But I just have one question. Then I'll leave."
"I don't want you to leave," she said looking at me.
"I understand you don't remember what happened between us on the tour...but do you remember what happened earlier this month."
The way she stared at me with a slow part of her lips told me she did. But she denied it. "I don't. I saw you?"
"Yes."
She placed her free hand on her hip and looked off to the side. "Hmph. You would think I would remember being alone with you."
"Who said we were alone?"
She looked to me once more and laughed. "I thought that's what you meant. Sorry."
It was but she somewhat gave herself away. "We met in a studio. We're currently making a song together."
She threw her hand on her forehead. "Michael, I'm sorry. I'm still a little confused about some things. But yes, I think I do remember now that you mentioned it."
"So if I mention that our first kiss was October 12, 1987 in Osaka, Japan on the stage of Osaka Stadium in the dark after we performed I Just Can't Stop Loving You, will you remember that?"
Her eyes seemed to be filling with life as she stared into my mine. I noticed her take a hard swallow. "That sounds special but I don't."
There were a million more things I could've thrown at her but I didn't want to overwhelm her for the sake that she really did magically lose every special memory we created. Though, something deep down inside told me she wasn't being honest with anyone. "I'm sorry that you don't." I slowly began stepping towards her. "I should go."
"I'm sorry," she said smirking. But there was a glisten in her eyes, as if she wanted to cry. But she held it back well.
When I was close enough, I boldly asked a favor from her. "I know it may sound weird but can I just have a hug goodbye?"
"Oh, Michael," she said laughing. "I remember touring with you. It's not weird."
"Okay then," I said smiling. I stepped closer until I was in her arms. "Take care."
"Mm-hmm."
The only reason I wanted to feel her embrace was to feel she had a heartbeat in that moment as rapid as mine. And she did, indeed. With all the reasons it could've been, I simply just believed the hard thudding was due to the love that we shared, the same love she could never forget.