5 Memories

It was like someone tore my heart out of my chest and left it out in the open to dry up; the feeling of hearing my own tragedy.

"All of this happened in a matter of days?" Those were the only words that could escape my lips, even though a million questions were buzzing around in my head - too fast for my brain to even process them. My mum and the handsome fellow next to her nodded. Then the heart monitor started beeping increasingly rapid.

"I'm going to need you to calm down, Zoey, we don't want you to have another episode of PTSD." The doctor sounded at the left side of my bed, I hadn't really noticed he was there.

"Will I get better?" I looked towards him.

For a moment there was silence, I could tell he was trying to find words to say, or lies to keep me calm.

"In most cases, patients who suffer from your condition never fully recover. But they do get better overtime with treatment." He replied, with much ruefulness in his voice.

" So that's it? I'm just supposed to keep re-living the same day in different ways, over and over again?" I questioned him. I always enjoyed watching gut-wrenching dramas, but I never thought I would be the one on the screen instead of watching it.

"Yes, I'm afraid so..." It felt rehearsed when he said it. Like he had said it a thousand times. That's right, he probably did. I just couldn't remember it.

"Zoey, I understand. I know this is hard for you, but we are trying our best to get you the best treatment possible for your memory loss as well as your PTSD-"

"No, you don't. You don't know what it's like. You can deal with a million patients and tell them how fucked up their lives are and feel sympathy for them, but you have no idea what it's like to be in this bed, and get told that you're never going to live a normal life." I didn't know what it was but something in me just snapped.

"Honey-" My mum's face turned fearful yet she got teary-eyed at the same time. She had her hand over her mouth. The attractive man next to her had his arms around her for comfort.

" I don't even know what it's like. All I can feel is this terrible pain in my chest, and then I forget it all the very next day." I said to myself, combing through my hair with my fingers. I sighed. " I guess it's a blessing in disguise, huh? At least I won't have to remember how I feel today when tomorrow comes." I chuckled softly to myself but it seemed forced.

"We'll leave you to have a moment to yourself." Despite my rude outburst towards him, he responded respectfully and signalled for my mum and the stranger to leave the room with him. My mum was reluctant to leave me but she did after a few convincing attempts from the stranger next to her.

I had my back turned on them when they left but although my eyes were fixed on the brightly lit children's park outside the ward, the small gap in between the sliding doors made it hard for me not to eavesdrop on their conversation.

"I'm so sorry, Doctor, I don't understand what's happening to her. She's not usually like this. The past few days of re-telling her situation and condition had always been a fairly smooth process, she's always been so accepting-"

"Mrs. Lawson, don't worry about this, I assure you Zoey is completely fine. Mood swings are common amongst most individuals with PTSD, which explains why her reaction to this varied differently from the past few days. She'll have more of these moderate to severe mood swings at different points in time. It's something you will have to get used to. " I heard the doctor say.

"We understand, thanks for your help Dr. Finley." The other man said.

"I'm off to check on another patient, feel free the notify the nurse if you need my assistance." I could hear his foot steps slowly fading away into eerie silence. Then the doors slid open.

"Hi Zoey." I heard the man say, with my back still facing him.

I turned to look, and he had settled down on a chair next to my bed, looking lost for words. My feelings of anger and rage had left me within seconds for some reasons unknown to me.

" You are?" I smiled at him gently.

He smiled back, " Grayson. Your fiancé."

I was bereft of speech. It never occurred to me how painful it must have been for him to be constantly reminded that I had no idea who he was.

"Oh, I'm so sorry... I didn't mean to sound so insensitive-"

"It's alright, it's not your fault, you kind of just slipped out of a coma, no big deal," he smirked and shrugged nonchalantly. A chuckle escaped my lips, I wasn't at all surprised that this man stole my heart once.

" I'm sorry about just now, I must have seemed like such a b-"

" Don't apologise, it's totally normal that you acted that way, the doctor told us that-"

" I know. I overheard." I interrupted him in an instant. No one likes to be told that they have a problem.

"You did?" His tone of voice turned apologetic.

"You guys were right outside, plus there's a gap between those doors." I replied monotonously.

"It's nothing to be ashamed of, Zoey. PTSD, Mood-swings, amnesia, those are just terms to describe your condition. Doesn't change who you are a person, or determine who you are."

I looked up at him, he seemed to know exactly what to say in these kinds of depressing situations.

" I have something for you." He continued, bringing out a thin scrapbook out from his backpack.

"What's that?" I asked because the vintage-looking piece of book piqued my interest.

"This," he handed me the scrapbook," is our love story."

I laughed softly at how cheesy it sounded. "You made a scrapbook for us?"

"Actually, we did." He corrected me. I opened it up to the first page and a hand written letter slid down the rose-scented paper.

"Are these hand-written letters?" I was eager to read them but found out that they were sealed.

"They're sealed because we promised each other to open and read them on our wedding day." He explained.

"Oh." It was the only thing that I managed to say. It was unfortunate that that happy day would never come.

I turned to the next page and I found a picture of us at what seemed to be a Christmas celebration. Grayson had his arms around me while I had my forehead leaned against his lips. I looked rather young with my short hair and he seemed to have shaven compared to his current unkempt stubble. Though, of course, it didn't make him any less attractive.

" I remember it like it was yesterday. We spent our first Christmas together as a couple. You always said you loved decorating your own tree so I bought you one and we decorated it together." I heard him describe the memory and I gazed at the cute ornaments that hung around the tree in the background of the photo.

"It was also the day I told you that I love you." What he said caught me by surprise, especially because he kept the word 'Love' in present tense. My eyes darted to his face and I could feel his gaze piercing through me.

I blushed, and hurried on to the next page. "Where was this?" I asked while pointing to a photo that showed me in a small wooden boat, dressed elegantly yet casual. Something about the lake felt familiar.

"That's Rocky State Rivers. The lake behind our university campus. I brought you there for a dinner by the lake and under the stars. I was quite the charming fella', I admit. " He grinned, tooting his own horn. I didn't mind it because I knew it was supposed to be a casual joke, he never seemed like the boastful type to me.

My eyes drifted to the photo below the Lake photo. It was just both of us kissing passionately, my hand on his right cheek while the other was behind the camera. Grayson had both his hands around my upper neck, gently caressing them.

"Wow... We were really in love, huh?" I stared at the photos. I couldn't help but be envious of how happy we looked. And then compare it to our current situation. I was on the hospital bed in a pale-white depressing gown while he was a more than a metre away, sitting on a chair, nowhere close in contact with me.

I turned to the next page and had the shock of my life. It was a picture of me biting on his lip while both of us weren't wearing any clothes. We were awfully close. My eyes widened. "Uhm..." I paused awkwardly.

He quickly got off his chair to turn the page. He chuckled, "Sorry about that, we were also pretty, uh, adventurous." He tried hiding the redness in his cheeks.

It must feel weird for him. We probably did everything together, knew each other inside-out, but I was the only one who became a stranger.

I looked down at the picture in front of me, and it suddenly brought a tear to my eye. Grayson was kissing, I assume, a tear that was running down on my cheek. His hands were on both sides of my head while I had one of my hands on his. But the photo seemed candid because it was taken from a distance.

"Trevor took that one. It wasn't purpose, though. You were reminded of your dad, and I was there to comfort you. Trevor happened to be there at the film opening event and saw us, so he took a picture of us. You know, typical photography students." He shrugged.

"His name feels familiar but I can't really remember what he looks like..." I tried picturing him in my head but something was blocking the image from appearing.

"It's okay, don't push yourself," Grayson put his hand on my lap to assure me.

"Do you miss us?" I asked, looking down at his hand on my lap. His touch felt like it belonged there, even though it felt new.

"All the time." He replied. Our eyes were locked on each other. "You know what kept me hanging on to us while you were in a coma?" I waited for his response. "This," he pointed to the scrapbook that I was holding onto, "this kept me sane. I looked through this scrapbook every single day that you weren't here with me."

I felt lucky that out of all males that could have been my fiancé, this gem of a man was mine.

"But now I realise that we can never be, even though you're thankfully back. God brought you back into this world, but not to me."

From that moment, I realised how deep I had already fallen for him, and how far Grayson had fallen out of love. The longer that I stayed that way, the more I was losing him. But I had absolutely no control over the situation.

Though it probably would have been for the best, I didn't want to lose him.

Dear God, why do you do this?