The Touch

The note

This is my room? This is what my room is like?

I gaze at my newly painted door, surprised by the unexpected colour combination. The blood-red hue with its velvet finish is a stark contrast to the dark chocolate steel frame that used to adorn it.

Someone came in here. Whoever it was, he or she dared to enter my house. To come up to my room? To even dare to enter into my comfort zone? What kind of creature is it? The cameras don't have any recordings, the sensor activity has been normal throughout the day. There's not a single evidence of anyone being present here and yet, this?!
Whoever it was, he or she managed to slip through the tight security, and constant camera surveillance and come up here and do this? But why? Why would someone paint my door in a colour combination of my deadly obsession? Impress? Or scare me? Which one?

I stare at the view in front of me, while all these thoughts play a rampage through my mind. This is getting on the bad side. I am getting distracted. I cannot let that happen.

Even though I am shaken by the surprise in front of me, I am still counting on the pros and cons. After almost five whole minutes of all possible calculations, I decided to walk up to my door. I stop by the borderline of the carpet.

Something feels different. No.... Familiar.... Or maybe confusing.

I touch the door knob to turn it when my body stiffens.
I know this touch. I know who was here. I know him. I know his scent. I know his presence. I know this familiarity. And even if I don't, my body knows it better.

But...who is he? What is his name? What does his face look like? Why can't I remember anything? Not a single trace of memory?

I take a deep breath and step into my room.
Nothing's different.
I look around to find everything perfectly alright...the way they are supposed to be. I am more relaxed when I see it's been more than 10 seconds, and yet my sensor receptor didn't go off. 

I am tired. I know I am subconsciously getting drawn towards my curiosity about this mysterious person, but I cannot help. I walk towards the closet and take the fresh pair of shorts and the oversized T-shirt out of it. I change into the fresh sets and walk around the corner of the room.
It's cold outside, I draw the curtains walk up to my bed and sit down by the edge of it. I move my hand over the bedsheet casually while my body is about to hit the surface of the bed when my palm comes in contact with the piece of paper kept in the middle of the bed. I open the paper and read the lines on it...

"Memories emerge from the mist, tempting me with their allure. They wrap themselves around my heart, taking me by the hand and leaving me feeling exposed. I long to experience them again, for my dreams to come to life once more and for these memories to be preserved on my wall in dusty frames"

I stare at the note. My heart was racing.

This... how? No..... No one knows about these except... But he isn't real.
Then?
Who is behind all of these?