Forever Ain't Enough

Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Johny

I was so excited about going to Manhattan that those two weeks I had to wait for felt like months. I spent so many nights, dreaming but never resting. Her image was engraved in my mind at that point. I could see her every time I closed my eyes, and it did not matter how hard I tried, I could think of nothing else but her. A perfect stranger in a broken mind. I believed I would slowly start getting my memory back at the start. But as time passed by, and nothing came back to me, I noticed it was not going to be as easy as I thought. I had read so much about the topic, my brain could not physically carry any more information on amnesia. Yet I could not comprehend what was happening to me.

How do you lose your life without actually dying? How do you start over with nothing to rely on? How do you get answers to questions you do not know how to ask? I had asked my mom before, about my past, and who I was supposed to be. She explained to the best of her abilities for as long as I needed her to. But I never felt satisfied with her answers and I felt it was getting old to ask about the same things over and over again. And we still have to take into consideration, I could not really remember my mom either. We had no actual "bond", she was just another number on my equation. You know, mom plus dad equals Johny. Johny minus memory equals empty soul.

Yes, I was alive, do not get me wrong, I was thankful for it, but I was not really living. I could not live a life that I felt belonged to someone else. I could not play a role I felt I was not designed to play. It was as if it was debut night for my show, and I was supposed to play the lead but never got to read the script. The worst part was, there was no one else on stage but my parents, and Nat, the random girl that kept showing up every day after school. Being honest, it seemed they had not rehearsed enough to play their parts either; and then, there was her. She was the missing piece to the absurd puzzle my life had become, or at least it felt like it. She was everything I needed to make sense of the mess I was in. But she was just the face on a "missing" poster hanging at the very center of my mind, and no one seemed to care about her being gone.

No one but me. I cared, so much, that I could feel my heart skipping a beat every time I thought I remembered something, but had no way to prove it was real. I cared so much I cried constantly, with shaky hands, and a dizzy mind because I hated being trapped in a body with no manual. I cared so much, that every night I would beg on my knees I got to see her again. I cared so much, that time consumed me, and after so much waiting we were finally on our way to the city.