Entry Ten

Yesterday, I had nothing left to lose, I no longer had my innocence.  After my tears ran out, I met a new me.  Even though I had lost everything that had once meant something to me, there are still things for me to find in this world.  Even the scars would someday become my pride.

How long have I been pretending that I've forgotten how to dream?
Those were my first thoughts upon waking in the hospital bed.  My second thought was “What in the hell am I doing here?”  I must’ve been thinking aloud because it wasn’t long before a nurse trotted into the room with the greeting, “it’s good to see that you’re finally wake, Mr. Valentine.”

“Mr. Valentine?”  I asked.  But almost as soon as I said it I remembered my own name.  Jack Valentine.  That was about it.

“Yes, that is your name.  Mr. Valentine, it is normal, er, to have amnesia after using that drug.  It is very powerful.  You do realize that it is illegal, however, quite dangerous as well I’m afraid.”

“Is it temporary?  The amnesia?”

“I’m afraid that is most likely is not the case.  The drug you administered causes large amounts of damage in the part of your brain that stores your memories, and unfortunately, it is often largely irreversible.  You may have a chance, however, since your roommate brought you in so quickly.  His name is Connor, you should thank him.”

“Yes, I suppose I should.”

I knew he was a fake before he even walked into the room, and when I saw him I was certain.  He was about average height with an exceptionally thin frame hidden by a baggy jacket and pants, but accentuated by a tight shirt and a belt that cinched his pants in around his waist.  His hair was medium length and parted to the side, when he flicked his hair to the side I saw that the swath of hair hid a long scar in the center of his head.  So much about his appearance was to hide something or to some effect.

He waited until the nurse left the room to speak.  “Thank you for not telling her, I’m sure you realize I’m not who I said I am.”  He looked down at his feet and back up with a deep flowing energy in his eyes.  “My name’s Julius.  I, uh, came to see if my old roommate was doing well.”  He looked down again with a pause and when his voice returned I could hear the lump in his throat broadcasting to the world the tears that were not too far off. 

“Instead,” he continued, “I found you there with that needle in your hand, passed out on the floor.  I thought you were dead for sure.  I checked your pulse and realized that there might be some hope in saving you.  Of course, they don’t want any ambulance of cops out there so I had to carry you in my arms for nearly two miles to meet an ambulance.  When they asked for my name I just gave them his, said I was your roommate, hoped they wouldn’t ask any questions.”

 I had only one question.  It was the only think that I could sort out of the swirling madness in my mind.  It was life I was reaching out so desperately for something that just wasn’t there anymore.  “Why?” I asked in a pleading voice.

“Why…?”  Clearly he didn’t understand, for some reason though, that didn’t seem to bother me.  I was used to people not understanding me or so it would seem.  “What do you mean?”

I looked down at the bend of my arm and my eyes lingered over the black splotch that would forever and always be there.  I hoped this would crystallize my thoughts for me.  “Why am I still alive?  I have nothing to live for anymore.  I have no memories, that drug wiped them all out.  It was a struggle to even remember my name.  I don’t even know if I’ve met you before.  I have nothing left, everything I’ve ever done is just gone.  What’s the point in trying to live when you have no life left to live?”

He looked down at his feet as a yelled about my life, or lack of one.  He was patient and calm I could swear as I was yelling I saw a glimmer of a smile cross his face.  When I finished, just before I could yell at him for not saying… something, anything, he raised his head.  His expression was now tender and bittersweet.  The radiant light still shone in his eyes though they were clouded by a film of tears. 

“You’re alive.  Your life is still with you.  The past?  You can’t live in the past.  You still have your future, and that’s what’s really important.  Hell, you’re lucky, so lucky, kid.  I have no future, you have no past.  Tell me, which one of us has the most potential?”  It was my turn to look confused now.  How could this man, whose eyes shone with the energy of life. Tell me that he has no future waiting for him?  He opened his mouth and answered that exact question.

“I have AIDS.  I could’ve got it from a needle just like the one that was in your fist when I first saw you.  After all, that was my lifestyle when I slept in that bed in that very room.  It got to me, the lifestyle there.  My life was such a rush, the drugs just emphasized that for me, or so I thought.  It was all just a waste of a good future.  I have a wife, she doesn’t know.  I only just found out myself.  I can see the disease in her; I watch everyday as it makes her weaker.  One day soon I will stand by her casket and wish I was in that bed, just like you.  Then, I will die.  I might not even make thirty.  I can never remarry, I will never love again after her.  She is my alpha and omega, beginning and end.  My life, I feel, will end with her.  Even if I can find it in my heart to love again, how could I put someone else through what I’ve put her through.  I could’ve had a daughter, but I think it was the disease that caused the miscarriage.  I was going to name her Rose…  My wife has no future; my daughter’s future ended before it began; if I have a future, it will be consumed by pain of body and soul.  I don’t know what happened in your life that made you want to do this to yourself, I don’t know if you’ll ever remember, but is it really that bad?  You have a chance to start over.  Cherish it.”  Then, with his speech over, he left my room unceremoniously.

I was stuck there for a second after he left.  I wanted to rebut but there was no one there to hear my rebuttal.  And on top of that he was right.  I may not have any memories of my past, but maybe that was the way I had wanted it.  I had a chance to start fresh, without any baggage.  I had the opportunity that very few people ever would get.  I had to cherish that.

I wanted to leave, but I was still too tired.  I rolled over and fell asleep in contempt of my weak body and it’s inability to carry me to my goal as I wished.  All in good time I told myself before I slipped away.

After waking, I got out of bed in a hurry.  Already I had been here too long.  I had a life to start living and I wasn’t about to let a hospital bed and some doctor’s self gratifying procedure stop me from enjoying it.  In a box in the corner of the room I found my clothes.  I closed the door to my room and removed the cheap fabric of the hospital gown and replaced it with the clothes I had come in in.  I knew that one of the first things I would have to do was find some money to buy some new clothes.  The ones I pulled on in that hospital room didn’t seem to fit me anymore.  Not that they weren’t comfortable, I just wanted something different for my life now.

I walked up to the nurse’s counter and saw a familiar face though it was not the same face I had seen earlier in the day.  It must be a different shift I told myself. 

This was something I still wasn’t used to, after all this was the first time it had happened since I woke in that bed.  My nurse was surprised to see me.  It could’ve been the clothes, you know, the fact that I was no longer wearing the hospital gown she had seen me in only moments before. 

“What are you doing up?”  She asked.

“I’ve changed my mind, I don’t want the procedure anymore.”  I answered. 

“Why?”  She asked.  I almost laughed.  Was this the way I sounded a moment ago, I asked myself.  It had been me who asked all the questions back then and now I had all the answers.  A lot had changed in my life in those last few minutes.  I felt empowered.  She continued to speak, “don’t you want your memories back?”

“Not particularly.  All I need to live my life is a future, nothing more.  I wouldn’t want you doing any extraneous surgeries on my account, and besides, I feel like this is a second chance for me to get things right in my life for a change.”

“What about your family; your friends?”

“I’m not really worried about that, if they don’t try to reach out to me now than I never needed them in the first place and besides, I feel kind of lucky today, like anything could happen.  The truth is, anything can, and I am blessed with the ability to see it all through the eyes of a child, embracing all the lost wonders of the world.  Can you do that?”  When she didn’t answer the rhetorical  question I felt free to answer for her.  “You can’t, and that alone makes me blessed, any that is a blessing I wouldn’t trade all the memories in the world for.”

She just stared back at me, awestruck.  “I would like to be discharged.”  Somehow, something in that felt familiar to me, as if I had said it before in a past life.  But that was all it was now, a past life.  I had a new life to begin, I told myself as I filled out the voluntary  discharge papers. 

I handed them back to her and left the hospital unceremoniously.  Beyond that revolving glass door waited a whole new world for me to explore.