Since I have been staying at the home of my lovely friends, not only have I broken their fridge, but I also have been presented with lots of photographs to look at by my friends.
Gazing at photos and laughing along with my friends is one thing, but taking photo albums back to the room I am sleeping in so I can continue perusing. For some reason, when I am alone, those photographs have a different effect on me.
You know when I was attacked…there were a lot of blows directed towards my head…and my loved ones had always made me aware that since then, there are things missing from my memory. As someone who apparently has lost memories, it is a strange feeling to see photographs which you are in, with people you do not recognize, at locations you do not recall, and not to find those images prompt any recollection.
I want to remember – but nothing seems to be there. It is a little unnerving. I sort of feel a little vulnerable that my friends have so many photographs that I am in…and I cannot find those memories anywhere in my brain.
I am going to sleep…because it is weighing heavily on my heart.
Caramel 