More Than Just Amnesia

(Photo Credit: Poptardsgo)
(Photo Credit: Poptardsgo)

“What’s with the weird title of this post?”

I don’t know… It seems legit to me though. Catchy, isn’t it?

– – –

The rain was pouring heavily outside. I could hear the splashes it made on the rooftop and windows of my bedroom. I hated rainy days. What was there to love about the cold breeze that’s making me shiver? What was there to adore about the loud pitter-patter of the raindrops that’s giving me sleepless nights? Nothing was lovable with rainy days.. Nothing…

But just because the rain was a complete downpour from where I was, it was not a reason for me not to go outside. I had to. I had to get drenched in that rain myself. Why? I just had to.

And as I was walking down the concrete road of the outside street of my home, I wondered why I didn’t bring myself the forsaken umbrella that’s been left hanging behind the door of the main door? Should I go back for it? Or just go on my way thinking that it’s only a matter of steps before I get to my destination?

I chose the latter one. I was fully drenched in the rain anyway. I wasn’t even thinking that I might get a cold or something out from that silly decision. Or was it just me trying to save time? Well, whatever… I was almost to my destination…

The door creaked open as I went inside. And to my amazement, it was a room which was similar in all aspect from where I had been from. “Wait? Am I in the wrong house?”

I went upstairs and saw my own bed, with everything in its rightful place. Everything seemed familiar but I know that I should not be in here. I should be in some place else. But why am I here?

I sat on the bed with my still wet clothes. A few minutes later, I heard some loud footsteps from downstairs. Someone’s coming. I decided to wait for whoever was that person. It might be someone I knew.. I mean hello? Who would be intruding my own home?

And then, anticipating as the knob turned open, I came face to face with myself. My mind was in a state of shock. How can this be? How can there be two of me? What was even weirder was the fact that the girl who just came in seemed to have neglected the fact that somebody else was inside her room. She walked past by the bed, past by me.

I watched as she flipped open her notebook and read this one particular page with a bookmark. It was a poem written by this alter ego of mine. I raked my thoughts in search for a memory of having been able to write this piece. But I can’t find anything. I don’t remember writing this one…

When love hits rock bottom
A love that can then withstand even the strongest storm
Is now just a fragile piece of tiny leaf
A love that knew no reason then, now turned deaf.

When love hits a curve and swerved sideways
And everything crashed and burned, gone were the good days
Is now just a fading memory of the past
It was not meant to be because it didn’t last.

When love ceases to exist and fails to grow
And you’re only left with nothing but this gnawing pain and sorrow
Guess it’s time to kiss pain goodbye and face tomorrow
“Let go and let God, my heart-shaped sparrow”

It was one beautiful poem. I saw my own self smile as she read the last line of that piece. She seemed calmed and in peace. So unlike the drenched me counterpart. She closed the notebook and happily placed it inside a box labeled memories. Only then I noticed that there were some large moving boxes inside the room. She got up and opened one box. I didn’t see what’s inside but as she was rummaging through the insides of that box, a tear fell down her cheeks. She was now crying.

I was annoyed and confused at the same time. Why was my counterpart smiling and then crying over some stuffs? What was this all about? Finally, after moments of going through the contents of that box, she got up on her feet, placed the box on the now plain bed, carried one small box labeled as memories with her and stood up.

She looked fondly at the room as if memorizing every single inch of a detail of that room. Then she bid goodbye and went outside. I didn’t follow her, instead I looked outside the window and saw her get inside a car with Mom and Dad on the front seat. The car moved forward and trailing behind was a large moving truck.

I panicked. “Hey? What about me? That girl there is an impostor! I am the real me!”

I frantically tried to open the door but it won’t budge. The cold breeze from the open window now started to make me feel cold. It made me shiver. After all, I was still wearing my drenched clothes. Feeling hopeless, I slumped back to the bed. I was crying. I felt so alone. I felt so lonely. When I turned around, I came face to face with another me. This time, it’s a mirror. I walked near it and saw my own reflection. So unlike the girl who just left.

My eyes were nowhere near a spark. My face was not glowing, not one bit. And every fine line in my face spoke about sadness, hostility, remorse, grief and hate. Only then that I realized that I caged myself for so long… I was lingering to what I considered then perfect and still. But look at where it got me?

If only I could be like that girl. If only I could emulate her. If only I could be in that same spot with her. There were a lot of if’s inside my head now. And then it hit me… I CAN. That girl was me.

Almost like as if on cue, I heard a loud knock on my door. I opened my eyes and everything seemed different around me. The curtains have changed, the color linens of my bed have changed, and even the framed pictures beside my bed were not the same.

It was all just a dream after all. Despite the unfamiliarity of the new place, I like it. This must be the place where I should start all over again. This must be where I should be.