Forget-me-not | Seungmin

Cynthia

Shockingly, there was a break room inside the JYP building. Cynthia found it by accident one day. She was attempting to find her way to one of the dance practice rooms after using the restroom. The maze of hallways was confusing and overwhelming and that's how she found herself in the fluorescent lit room. 

There were a few circular tables scattered with chairs around the area. Different vending machines held different drinks and snacks towards the back. In another area, there was a black coffee pot with canisters of coffee, disposable cups, and coffee stirrers. A toaster was pushed to the side of a back counter and a microwave hung above it. 

She glanced back over her shoulder, but nobody was there. Not a single person had seen her come in and quite a few people on the floor were busy. For now, she was alone with her thoughts. It seemed like she could never have a moment alone anymore. 

She didn't mind it, not really. It was nice to be around people again and the band kept her entertained. She didn't feel trapped around them and she didn't have to dim herself down to keep them happy. However, there were still parts of her that were afraid. 

She realized it the other day when Lee Know was out in the kitchen making breakfast. She peeked her head out of Felix's bedroom and froze. Her heart hammered in her chest and internal alarms wailed that there was danger. 

She grew used to walking on eggshells among Flora. She grew used to the tension and the fear. It kept her restricted with her arms down at her sides. It was that way up until the end and before Flora was arrested. When she yelled at Flora, Cynthia still didn't know where that burst of courage came from. She blamed it on the dream that she had about Seungmin. 

Taking a moment for herself, Cynthia slipped into one of the chairs and let her head droop. The past few days had been exhausting. Seungmin got permission to grab some of the things from Flora's apartment. Fortunately, he was able to find the information about her doctor's appointments and he was able to grab some of her clothes. 

He was driving her to her appointments and she attended them a few times a week. She worked on different things with different occupational therapists, but it was frustrating for her. There were things that had yet to stick in her head. The frustration led to getting upset and that led to anger and it eventually wormed its way back into sadness. 

She knew she shouldn't have been feeling like this, but she was. She felt awful and she felt useless. It was constantly the same things that tripped up her brain. Like right now, she promised to use the restroom and go back to the dance practice room. The only issue was that she couldn't remember where the dance practice room was. 

Was it right or was it left? Two rights and then a left or was it three rights? The short-term part of her memory was still hazy when it came to directions. The worst part was when nothing made sense. She'd stand still and take in the information, but her brain glitched and it didn't quite stick. 

The neurons fired, but one of them misfired and then they all flickered. Like Christmas lights about to die, her brain's thought process was on its last leg. It was so frustrating and there was nothing she could do about it. The main occupational therapist said she'd get it, but she still felt lost. 

She hated it. She hated being with the guys and listening to their conversations about different things and not understanding it. This morning, someone was talking about a new restaurant on the other side of town and they were explaining how to get there when her brain shortened. She was following along and then everything crashed and burned. 

She felt stupid and absolutely useless; idiotic and moronic. It was one of the worst feelings in the entire world, it was isolating. Everyone pretended to understand, but you'd never get it unless you were there. 

People don't know the anguish that comes with forgetting. They don't understand the tears of frustration and the waves of sadness. Your favorite color is your favorite for a reason. Maybe it's the comforting color or the brightness. Maybe you associate it with an emotion or a feeling. Imagine if you happened to forget one day. 

All those little facts about yourself? Gone. Like the little white dandelion seeds that disappear with a blow of warm spring air. You can try to search for them, but the wind has the potential to make them travel for miles. 

Memories are finicky little things. They're a privilege to have that most people take for granted. We experience greatness and then forget it. We lap up the warmth of the summer sun and remember the feeling of the rays on bare skin.

We remember the sound of our loved ones' voices. We remember the wrinkles in the elderly and the fine lines in our parents. We remember the way it feels to hold hands with significant others. The awkwardness of the first kiss when we're young. That warm and fuzzy ever-growing feeling you get when you have a crush. 

We remember it all until it's too late. Life happens and sometimes those memories stay superficial. They slip away and they're lost to time. In Cynthia's case, there was no choice. When her head slammed into the steering wheel, there was nothing she could do to stop it. 

The human brain is an incredibly intelligent organ. One that sorts out thoughts and feelings. It picks up on pain receptors, can sense danger, and can produce over-extensive amounts of anxiety from gut-wrenching feelings. It's the reason why you see, why you feel, and why you act the way you do. 

Cynthia's relationship with her brain was complex. On one hand, she could see and she could feel. She could experience the warmth of others and the fear caused by Flora. She could sniff the flowers and she could watch the sun set outside, but she couldn't fully remember. Not because she was aging, but because her supposed friend became jealous. It didn't help that the whispers of Flora's insults were still etched into the crevices of her brain. 

She could scream at the sky. She could wreck the break room and shatter vending machine panels. She could destroy herself in the process, but she wasn't going to. Instead, she kept the hurt inside, crossed her arms over the table, and buried her teary eyes in them. 

Nobody, not even the best people out there, are immune to life's vicious cruelty.