Conversations Through Glass

Nothing Really Matters

I just...stare. What am I supposed to say? Oh, I'm just your girlfriend and I'm back. You don't remember me? Well that's a darn shame, isn't it.

The hollow feeling in my gut returns as the truth of the matter settles on me, weighing on my shoulders like a really heavy cape. He...he doesn't remember me. He doesn't remember any of it.

His doctor, Dr. Curroda, takes me and my mom to his office so that he can explain the predicament. He explains that Patrick hit his head pretty hard in the crash and it gave him pretty severe amnesia. He doesn't remember most of his middle school years and none of high school, when we started dating. None of it.

I sit in my chair, staring blankly at my scuffed up boots, only half hearing what Dr. Curroda is saying. How...why did this happen to me- to...him? Just...why?

I don't cry. I can't even if I wanted to. I'm just hollow. A being made of absence and complete emptiness. Every hope I'd built up coming here came crashing down on me and now....nothing matters. Because what good does it do now that he's awake, if he doesn't remember me? It still leaves me as a half of a person, my other half thrown out with that busted up car as scrap metal. The scrap-metal me would want to matter, but this me, this me doesn't care.

School? Ha, it's not like I can focus in it anyway without him there to make it bearable.

Work? a) They've probably replaced me, considering I haven't gone in months. b) I don't need the money if I can't spend it on a late night pizza for the two of us on study nights.

Future? Is there even one? It's not like he can keep his promise to marry me if he can't remember he made that promise in the first place...So screw it. I'm done building up my hopes for nothing. I slump in my chair, sighing deeply.

"Can we just....go home?" I say.

My mom nods, thanks the doctor, and then we head home.