Lost Love

4. Old Messages

Ozzy is going back to university today and I can see the reluctance in his face about going back without me when I saw him coming out of the bathroom this morning. He has lessons tomorrow and apparently his attendance isn’t good already, so to miss anymore lessons would give the uni a reason to fail him on his course. We’ve not delved much further into ‘us’ since looking at those pictures when I first came back and that brief admittance that he wants me to remember him, which probably makes things a lot harder. I’m trying so hard to remember, but it’s not happened yet.

He been looking awful these past few days and I know it’s all my fault because he’s not been getting any sleep recently, as I can’t imagine the sofa is all that comfortable. In the three days he’s been here since I’ve been released from hospital, he looks at me each morning hoping that I’ll recognise him, hoping that I remember him and then his face falls when he sees it still hasn’t happened.

I get dressed in some patterned leggings and leave Ozzy’s sweatshirt on, kind of hoping that gives him a bit of comfort and head downstairs. I stop abruptly at the bottom when I hear Ozzy and my Mum talking heatedly with Eleanor pitching in.

‘You are a mess, Oscar. How is this going to help Imogen when you are so wrecked?’

‘My girlfriend cannot remember anything about me, or anyone for that matter! She’s not even herself. I’ve not heard her insult anyone since she’s woken up! It’s like she’s afraid of everyone but the fucking dog.’

‘It’s been five days since she’s woken up. She needs more time,’ I hear my Mum try to reason.  

‘When she’s feeling better, at least let her come and stay with me. We need to get her remembering and uni might do it. I need for you to let me try with her, Courtney.’ The desperation in his voice is almost heartbreaking. How do I mean so much to him? ‘Please?’

My Mum sighs before saying, ‘I don’t want her going back to uni yet, Oscar, but if she wants to, she can stay down with you and visit. We need to talk to the uni about it next week.’

I decide to finally walk through the kitchen door, pretending I haven’t heard a word any of them had said and smile at them all. My Mum greets me and quickly begins to lay out breakfast. I sit beside Ozzy at the table and he gives me a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He’s dressed in jeans and a t-shirt and his hair is still drying from his earlier shower, the curly waves twisting back into shape.

‘Morning. Are you all packed?’ I ask him, trying to give him a bright smile.

He gives me a noncommittal shrug and adds, ‘Mmm, but I’m leaving one important person behind though.’

I twist my lips as he says this and don’t respond. I can’t respond. There’s nothing I can say that will genuinely make him feel better.

‘Well let’s enjoy this morning together then?’ I suggest bravely. Trying to exert some confidence, I stand up and extend my hand out for him to take it and follow me upstairs. ‘Can we take breakfast up, Mum?’ I ask, as Ozzy pushes his chair back under the table and interlinks our fingers. I can feel my hands clamming up at the simple, intimate action.

She sends me a brief look, before nodding and handing us a plate of fresh fruit and some toast. Ozzy takes our drinks up whilst I take a tray of food up for us to share.

Once we’re in my room, I sit on my bed and urge Ozzy to do the same. Placing the tray between us, with our drinks resting on my bedside cabinet, we tuck into breakfast, making some brief small talk before I get onto the next reason why I invited him up.

Walking over to my desk, I signal for him to follow me, and he does, standing beside me and waiting for me to speak.

‘All of this stuff here, it’s make up, right? Well I don’t have a clue what to do with it,’ I tell him, picking up glass bottles and observing them. It’s been bothering me that I have such a collection and don’t know how to use it.