Bittersweet Memories (Off-Limits)

“Are you sure you want to try this?” my psychologist asks. “Hypnotherapy could help, but it could also generate even more false memories if it works at all. It isn’t like in the movies, where you’ll just magically remember everything. Because your amnesia has lasted for so many years, the chances of full recovery are slim.”

I nod without hesitation. “I want to try. Recently I’ve been told a lot of things about my past, and while they don’t feel right, I can suddenly remember those exact scenes. I can’t tell what is true and what isn’t. I want at least a hint of my own memories, something that’s mine, not something I’m being told is true.”

“I understand,” the doctor says. “Let’s give it a try then, shall we?”

She leads me to the sofa and tells me to make myself comfortable. I’m nervous, scared of what I might see, but I close my eyes nonetheless.

“Let’s start with controlling your breathing, okay?”

I follow her steps, counting my breaths until my thoughts still, going through the motions with her. I try my best to imagine the serene landscape she’s describing, the sun shining on my face. It takes a while, but eventually, I sink into the fantasy she laid out. She takes her time, slowly adding some of the details I told her about into the scenario, until it all starts to feel real.

“That man you keep dreaming of, he’s smiling at you and grabs your hand.”

I never used to be able to see his face, but this time I picture him as Silas, the younger version of him I saw in my memories. Could it truly be him?

“He pulls you along, the two of you walking hand in hand.”

My imagination follows the scenario and I just watch as the scene becomes more and more familiar, until we’re standing underneath a large blossom tree. One I’ve seen before. I gasp and sit up, my hands wrapping around myself.

“What is it? What did you see?”

I shake my head, a sad smile on my face. “Nothing. It was just a place I went to recently. It isn’t something from my past.”

She nods and smiles in understanding. “We can try it again soon, if you want, but your case is tricky. I’m not sure it’ll work.”

I rise to my feet and nod. “I get it. Thank you for trying nonetheless.”

I’m absentminded as I leave her office, something not feeling quite right. There’s something about the blossom tree that feels like it was a sign.

I hesitate for a moment before flagging down a taxi, trying my hardest to recall the directions to the place Silas took me to on my birthday. It was that very same tree, I’m sure of it.

I stare up at the no trespassing sign as I push the taxi door closed, a strange sense of belonging washing over me. I know this place, and it isn’t just because Silas took me here recently.

I walk up to the tree, my head throbbing, almost as though it wants me to remember, but can’t push past the blocks containing it.

I place my hand against the tree trunk and inhale shakily. “Tell me your secrets,” I whisper. “Tell me mine.”

I look around, unsure what for, until my eyes land on a small shovel hidden behind the tree. It looks old, rust eating at the handles, but the moment I see it, I just know that’s what I was after. I grab it with both hands and stare at it for a moment, trying to figure out why it feels so familiar to me. I must have used this before.

My knees hit the floor as I start to dig, unsure why but certain that’s what I’m here for. Before long, the shovel hits something hard, and I dig out a glass bottle. I brush the dirt off and hold it up to the light. There’s something in there. I open the bottle carefully and take out the paper inside it, my hands trembling as I uncurl it.

It’s a drawing of me. Or rather, it’s a handmade birthday card, similar to the one Silas gave me this year. This one too, was no doubt drawn by him. It’s an image of a younger me sitting underneath the blossom tree, my ankles crossed and my face tipped up toward the sun, a happy smile on my face.

I open it hesitantly, my eyes widening at the date written on the top right corner. It’s a birthday card for last year, back when I’d just started dating Ryan.

Alanna, my ray of sunshine

It’s been over four years since you went missing, and I still come here every year on your birthday. No matter how much time passes, I can’t let go. I can’t give up hope that someday I’ll run into you somewhere, and you’ll explain to me why you disappeared without a word.

I keep dreaming that you and I grow old together, and the years we spent apart are one of those things we’ll tell our grandchildren about. The epic love story of their grandparents.

The more time passes, the more I wonder if maybe I’m wrong, and nothing happened to you at all. Maybe you just had enough of the life we lived. Maybe being with me was too hard. Maybe hope wasn’t enough to live on. Maybe that last argument we had made you realize that you can do better, and you left to create a better life for yourself than what I could’ve given you.

Who knows… maybe you’re out there, happy with someone else. If you are, I’ll wish you the best and quietly cheer you on. The only thing I’ve ever wanted for you was happiness, even if it isn’t with me.

I love you, Alanna. Even after all these years. I loved you long before I first uttered those words, and I’ll love you until I draw my last breath. I hope you’re out there somewhere, so I’ll get to tell you this in person someday: Happy birthday, Ray.

Ψ

The letter is signed with the ψ symbol, and hot tears stream down my cheeks. ψ is a person. It’s Silas. He’s the one I’ve been looking for.

I hate that I can’t remember anything about him, about us. I bite down on my lip and move to fill the hole I just dug, but just before I throw on some dirt, I see something else buried. Another bottle.

I pull that out too and continue to dig, unearthing a total of four bottles, including the one I’ve already opened. There seems to be one for every year since I woke up in the hospital, all of them containing a handmade birthday card.

It can’t be that I ran away because Silas stalked me. These bottles prove that he loved me more than anything, holding onto our relationship even as I went missing.

But if we were dating, then why do I remember us arguing? Why do I remember screaming at him to stay away from me? Was it just an argument, or was there more to it?

I draw my knees to my chest as tears flow down my face. I need to know the full truth, and no one but me can give me that.