Arielle Reedsy Anthology

Pink

He didn't believe me.

And even when he did, he didn't understand me. It wasn't something I had ever explained, and the countless phrases I had meticulously mapped in my mind jumbled together when I tried to coax them past my throat.

At first, he laughed.

He laughed at me.

I didn't move.

When he saw my seriousness, he looked at me closely. A little bit afraid, a little bit uncertain.

But then he took my hands into his and pulled me in, cradling me in his arms and kissing my forehead as I shook and wept.

For awhile, he was quiet about it. He asked how I was feeling, if I was afraid, what he saw for us.

Then slowly.

Every decision became mine to make.

What would this do?

How should I respond?

Will this turn out good?

Over time, the burden that had only loomed eerily above me for so long, came crashing down upon my shoulders.

I never should have opened my mouth.

In my cage, I stopped doing the things I loved, I stopped going out, I stopped even getting dressed in to morning.

I laid in bed motionless. Hours turning to days as I stared emptily at the ceiling.

And still, he would ask.

Should I get this from the store?

Which tie would impress his boss more?

I indulged as best as I could, staggering for breath, for relief.

Each word bound me in another wave of fear. Blinding me, suffocating me in expectations.

And so, in the current of memories, I let myself go.

I refused to remember anything.

After all, without memories, the only person you can lie to is yourself.

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This couple was recently married. When an accident causes the change in her memory, she told him. And was used for it.