Memory

After exchanging wide-eyed and shocked expressions with my mother, Lisa turned to me and said, “Colin is your fiancé, Selena.”

My brow furrowed, and I peered at her quizzically as I tried, unsuccessfully, to recall someone named Colin. I shook my head slowly.

“Doctor!” my mom screamed, scaring the hell out of me. “Doctor!”Lisa merely stared at me with a concerned expression. “You don’t remember?” she asked with hesitation.

My mother rushed back into the room with a doctor in tow. “She can’t remember her own fiancé!”

“It’s all right,” he said, patting her arm soothingly. “Memory loss sometimes happens with accidents, but it’s usually temporary. So let’s not rush to panic. Let me check her out, okay?” He peered at her with kind eyes.

She nodded and her expression softened. “Okay.”

The doctor approached me and asked if I remembered him. When I told him I did, he asked if I knew where I was before I found myself in the hospital.

“I was…” I struggled to recall but couldn’t.He asked several other questions: my full name and date of birth, my address, who the president was, if I remembered the nurse, and the current date.”My answer to the last question—the seventh of June—had him, Mom, and Lisa exchanging glances.“That’s the date she got into the accident!” my mom interjected.“Accident?” I turned to look at my mom, but Dr. Andrew redirected my attention back to him.“Stay focused on me,” he instructed. He asked a few more questions about the recent past, Then asked where I met my fiancé, while shifting his eyes between Lisa and me.

I shrugged, then looked at Lisa, giving her my full attention. I was quite interested in hearing her answer, considering I had no recollection of a fiancé.

“They met when she fell down a flight of stairs back in college. He saved her and took her to the school hospital,” Lisa said.

Yes! “I remember falling down the stairs,” I said with entirely too much joy, considering we were talking about me taking a pretty bad spill.

“Good. Good,” Dr. Andrew said. “And what happened after you fell?”

“I woke up in the school hospital,” I murmured, though the memory was fuzzy. My brow furrowed as I tried to piece together what had happened from there.Dr. Andrew asked if anyone was at the hospital with me back then, but I couldn’t recall.

“Colin was there,” Lisa said. “That’s where you two met. It was when you became interested in him.”

I shook my head. “No one else was there. I woke up alone.”

“It’s okay,” Dr. Andrew replied. “This happens sometimes.” He turned to my mother and Lisa. “As you can probably discern, she’s lost a portion of her memories… specifically those that involve her fiancé it would seem.”“How is that possible?” Lisa asked. “They met six years ago and started dating a year later. That’s a lot to forget.”

Lisa met my eyes, and I shrugged. “Maybe forgetting him is a good thing?” I asked with some trepidation, trying to be optimistic.

“It appears she’s doing well otherwise, though,” Dr. Andrew said, then shifted from Mom and Lisa to me. “And that’s a very good thing.” He gave me a wide smile. “Also, as I mentioned, memory loss after head trauma is not always permanent. Your brain may need time to heal and reestablish connections, and some aspects of memory loss might take longer to recover. But many patients find that their memory improves significantly over time.”“Okay,” I said, unsure what to think.

He gave me a nod, then turned to Mom and Lisa and did the same before he left the room.

I asked Lisa and my mom, “If I really have a fiancé, then where is he?”“Well, you may not have been wrong in thinking that forgetting him might be for the best,” Lisa said.

“Why?” I asked, seeking to understand what my life was all about.

Lisa approached my bedside, held up her phone, and showed me a series of chats and voice notes I’d sent her over the years. Each message, each tear-stained voice note, revealed heartache and turmoil, all stemming from a man named Colin, my supposed fiancé.

I listened to the sound of my own pain and sorrow, and it became clear that Colin had not reciprocated my love. Nor had he shown me the respect I deserved.

“But why did I stay?” I whispered, more to myself than to Lisa.

Still, she answered. “That’s a good question. Do you recall sending me a voicemail right before the accident?”