The Girl on the Reset Button

February 14, 2011

“Happy Valentine’s Day.”

“Thanks,” she smiled.

Dear Diary,

I thought of reaching out to her again. But not the way I reached her out before. Not that intimate. Just a little. I just gave her a small box of chocolates and a rose. I can’t afford a bouquet so I just bought one. I think that’s enough, though. At least the rose is real.

When she asked me why I gave her those, I just told her that we gave patients those gifts during Valentine’s Day. Which was merely a lie. It was pretty much obvious that it was a lie. Everyone around her doesn’t hold any box or rose. But she just chuckled and let it all go.

We were about to go back to her room when she stopped me.

“Wait,” she held my hand. “I’ll show you something.”

It was the best thing that I’ve ever seen in my whole life. All of my worries I had we washed out by just one painting, by that painting she showed me. It was perfect for the day.

“W-Why did you painted me?”

She shrugged. “I don’t really know… but you seem nice.” She looked back at me and smiled.

I smiled back at her. “Thanks.”

I don’t know why she painted me. As I can remember, all she paints were pictures of flowers, a green field, autumn leaves or other things related to nature. But now… she painted me. Can she remember me? When she sees me every time, are memories trigged flashed in her mind? Can she remember the days we used to spend together?

Does she feel the same way too?