Is forgetting a choice? Or does it just strike out of the blue? You’ll wake up one day and you feel you gradually lost your ability to think and to remember–wearing your clothes properly, where you put your key, remembering a person’s name, and even the most significant event that happened at a certain moment. You find yourself falling into the pit of oblivion. And you ask yourself in between poking your head while trying to remember. Why is this happening to me?
Perhaps, in my own case, forgetfulness emanates from the stupid workings of an obnoxious curse. One day, while drowning myself from the delirium of heartbreak, I blurted out, “I wish I forget everything, I wish that all my memories of her will be erased from my system.” I never thought someone listened. Well, it did not happen in a flash, like a fairy godmother who would magic things in a wave of her wand. No, not like that. The occurrence took a gradual course, but surely created an impact. I never thought that she was not the only one who managed to escape from my pool of memory. Yes, she was successfully banished from my memory, but as she took flight, she carried along with her my eunoia. And all that’s left of me? Well, the shards and the symptoms of a seemingly Alzheimer’s disease-like dilemma. One morning, I just woke up with a pang of pain on my head. One day I just discovered I was wearing my shirt the other way around while strolling down the mall. Lately, I have been forgetting to bring my key when I leave the room (not just once, but many times already). Now, I ocassionally struggle with pain and lethargy, like I was at a loss of everything. Yet I managed to focus on my teaching.
I usually cry when this throes attack. I usually poke my head to the point of banging it on the wall. I wish to take that curse back. I wish that even though she broke my heart, she never ruined my memory.
Now, who am I going to blame? Is it her? Is it me? Or is it someone who listened to my plea?