He blinked to shake off the sleepiness, befuddled by his presence in a room that had given itself the eternal duty of depressing his spirits. He had said he wouldn’t leave; where was this? He had vowed to keep safe and return; when was this? What was the commitment, who had he given assurance to and why did he make such a promise? More critically, how can he retrieve the slightest strains of memories that had once resided in his mind, but which had insidiously abandoned him without an audience?
He walked towards the lone window that reluctantly admitted a stream of sunlight. An elusive silhouette pacing at the end the street caught his eye and struck a chord in what remained of his recollection. It had been five years. All images failed to register in his mind, and all the voices didn’t matter. Time could seep away, but this passion couldn’t. Maybe, just maybe, he would one day remember the name of this beautiful face that emerged and wrenched his heart each time he opened his eyes…
A close friend has recently lost her memory due to unknown reasons. She had vague images and inklings of the past, but nothing concrete of the present, leaving a gap in time. I began to wonder what life would be when the building blocks of emotions degraded.
Without memories, what would emotions be?
What would happen when you forgot the very people whom you’d thought of every day, dreamt of every night, and loved so dearly?
We keep our deepest thoughts to ourselves, but when we lose our memories, what happens to these stories that was once the building blocks of our lives?