D.I.D. You Know We Love You?

R Ran For It

Dreams were a strange thing. I couldn't tell which were real and which were imagination anymore. Sometimes I would dream of life, and wonder if they were actually mine or just a fantasy. In them, I saw people I knew and people I could not remember for the life of me.

When I saw myself in the dreams, I knew it was just a dream. Or at least, I assumed it was fantasy, because you don't see your life from outside like that. It all felt disjointed and made me think about my life. Just since working for the company, I thought about my routine. I started keeping track.

I had come to the conclusion that I was missing time. I could remember waking up in the morning, going to work, eating lunch, going home... and then it got weird. Sometimes I could recall eating, but sometimes I couldn't. I would swear I watched my show, but when did I go to bed?

I knew I had skipped so many breakfasts, but I wasn't hungry at all. How is that even possible? I should be ridiculously thin if I wasn't eating. So I must have eaten. Even my groceries didn't seem to match. I was still buying cereal. Why would I be buying cereal? I needed help. I needed it more than I ever thought possible.

Richie called my cell phone that afternoon and I was grateful. He wanted to make sure I was still doing okay. I saw him all week at work and he tiptoed around me. I told him I was fine, even though I really wasn't. I didn't want to burden him any more. He emailed me three names and their phone numbers as promised. One guy and two women.

I looked them up on the computer. I didn't think I could tell the guy anything. He was older and just looking at him made me feel uncomfortable. He looked too much like a doctor. One of the women was on the younger side. Maybe a little older than myself. She looked kind. Her eyes didn't look fake-happy.

I looked up the last one and considered. She looked... I wasn't sure. There were pictures of her boating on a lake, a dock, a dog, and a casual porch with white picket fencing. It made me nervous to look at it. It looked so... normal. For some reason I felt it was sinister. I didn't question my feelings though.

Instead I just circled the younger one's number. I had made a decision. I hoped that this person could help me figure things out. Maybe even help me remember the parts that were missing. I really don't think you should be doing this. 

Oh, you are talking to me now? Listen, things happen for a reason. Maybe you should let this go.

Damon, it's not normal. Fuck normal. 

Look... I am just trying to do what is best for us. I know, I know. I just don't want to see us get hurt. 

We are already hurt, Damon. I need to fix us. You might break us further. 

It's a chance I have to take. We can't get better if we don't try. Okay. I get it. Call her on Monday.

Just... be careful.

"I will. I promise."

*

I woke up in my room. I blinked at the bright numbers on the clock display. I sat up quickly and tried to remember what I had done yesterday afternoon. I grabbed my hair and looked around at the neat room. There wasn't anything out of place. I crawled out of bed and ran to the kitchen.

I opened the cupboard and yanked out the cereal box. There it was. I stared down into the box and felt a little dizzy. The amount was below the line I had drawn yesterday. I already ate breakfast. I wasn't anorexic, it was because I was forgetting that I had eaten. Did you think we would let you starve?

I laughed at Damon's hurt tone. I shook my head. No, I just... worried a little. Apology accepted dumbass. Go get ready for work or Boss Sweet Cheeks will miss us. I groaned at the name and rolled my eyes. Really? Don't you dare say that to me while we are at work. Sure sure. I put coffee on so go run and get your monkey suit.

"Thanks Damon." I said as I sipped my coffee and ran out the door to work. I was on edge until lunch, and then I called her. It was surprisingly easy to get an appointment, probably because of Richie. The guy on the phone just took the basic information and told me he would send a form to my email to fill out and send back.

Most of the questions were routine. What's your name, address, contact information, basic stuff that every office collects. Others were more of those wishy-washy doctor's office questions that I hate. I answered them after staring at them for too long. By the time I was done, I had a headache.

I was glad that I did them right after work. That meant I could just lay down and take a nap, forget about my day and the form, and hope for the best tomorrow.

And all the days after.

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