Bed Partners

Muscle Memory

(QING)

I upped the speed on the treadmill as I ran faster. I am pushing myself and my body to see how far it can go. If my body has truly fully recovered from the car crash accident and being in coma for six months.

I've been awake for roughly two months now. Living with Dayu for three weeks. Have known about our past for five days. Five days since that dinner were I reaffirmed that Dayu is still in love with me.

The me before the accident.

I cannot blame Dayu. I don't know what I have said or promised to him but knowing myself, I must have promised him everything because that's what I promised myself if I ever found my miracle.

"GrandMa called GrandPa her miracle. That one person that made her feel emotions," I was seventeen when I told that to Dra.Yen.

"Then you might found your miracle too. What will you do if you find your miracle, Qing?" Dra.Yen asked.

"Do you have any idea how hard it will be for me to find my miracle. There's 7 billion people living around the world. Maybe my miracle hasn't even been born yet..." I argued with my psychologist.

"Or that person was born already and living and waiting for you. It doesn't matter. What I want to know is what will you do if you find this person? This miracle..."

I frowned, "A person that can make me feel? That person will be a miracle indeed. She will be special. Then I will give her everything. I will love her with all my heart and I will protect her. Make sure she is happy. And content to be on my side. I will not let that person be sad."

I press the speed button of the treadmill to slow it down. I jogged and then started walking on too of the machine as the speed slowed down.

I grabbed the towel hanging from the side of the treadmill to wipe the sweat on my neck and head. I held on to the bars on the either side of the treadmill and hang my head down. Sweats trickling down from my hair down on the machine.

What should I do? What should I do about Dayu?

That's the million dollar question.

I went to the punching bags lined up and hanging on one side of the gym. I wrapped some binding clothes on my hands and then started punching the sand bags. Swinging my arms and upper body as I hit the bag with my fisted hands.

While my body exercises, my mind is busy thinking of Dayu.

Or what can I do for him.

I listed the facts.

Fact 1: Dayu and I fell in love and were in a relationship before I got into the car accident that put me in a coma and when I woke up, left me with amnesia.

Fact 2: I am not in love with Dayu now.

That's a fact. I don't love him. Or I am not sure if I love him. I have feelings for Dayu, of course. I like him, he is my stepbrother and the fact that he took care of me for six months while I am in a coma is enough for me to like him and feel gratitude towards him.

But gratitude is not love. Like is not love. Can it bloom to love? I don't know. Maybe. But I am not gay. And I don't want to be gay. It's not on my agenda. I don't desire Dayu. Not that way. I think...I am confuse. Knowing that before my amnesia, I desire him and yet now...it like there's a fight inside my body. A kind of push and pull. A vicious tug of war.

So what should I do? What am I going to do? What do I want, really?

I don't want to hurt Dayu. That's another fact. I will hate myself if I hurt him. And I don't want to left him hanging. I don't want to watch Dayu waste his life by waiting for me to regain my memory when even the top doctors in the country won't even give me that guarantee.