It’s been at least five years, yet I still remember her face like I saw her yesterday. No, I don’t. I don’t remember her face. In my memories, there’s a bright light blocking it. How can I forget her face? Do I not love her enough? Will I remember if I try hard enough? Do I even need to remember her face to love her? Does it even matter if I love her?
These were my thoughts regarding that one girl from my school. Every day, every night — or rather, constantly — these thoughts lingered in my mind, but I tried to ignore them. Thoughts like, Will I get to see her again? Will I meet her again? never left my head.
Then, it happened. My school organized a party for former students.
It clicked. My mind went crazy. Will I get to see her again? I can finally talk to her? My heart raced. I could barely breathe thinking about it. The party was in a week. I could barely blink the entire week, afraid that if I closed my eyes, they might never open again, and I’d lose my chance to see her.
The day arrived. It was a Sunday. Of course, the thought of her not coming crossed my mind, but even the one-percent chance of her showing up was enough to keep me too excited to dwell on anything negative.
When I entered the party and saw the crowd, my head flicked left and right, searching desperately for a glimpse of her face.
I didn’t see her.
“She isn’t here?” I thought again.
Then, it happened.
I saw her.
Through hundreds of people, my eyes gravitated toward her face. The light — it was no longer there. I could see her. She was right there.
I had dreamed of this. I had cried for this. I had prayed for this.
“I have to go to her. This is my only chance,” I thought to myself.
It wasn’t even hard to build up the courage to approach her. The happiness inside me made it instinctive. She was standing alone, with no one around her. It was as if she were in the spotlight — or maybe it was just my eyes making it seem that way. It felt like no one else existed in that moment, just her and me.
So I did it. I went to her. I looked at her. We made eye contact.
Reality kicked in. The courage I had built up crumbled. I couldn’t open my mouth, even though I wanted to. I was probably about to explode from the inside.
Then, she said it.
“Cyrus?”
Yep, that was my name. Even if it wasn’t, it would be after she called me that.
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Welp, I had to reply.
“Yep… it’s been a while, hasn’t it?” I said.
She replied, “It sure has.”
“Do I confess?” “How do I confess?” I thought.
I had to do it. No matter how badly I messed up, this was my only chance.
“Hey, Iris,” I said.
“Yes?” she replied.
“I’ve meant — uh — meaning, um, I’ve been meaning to say this for a while… um… uh… so basically, uh… I have had a cru — loved — I’ve loved you… Yes, I’ve loved you for so long, Iris. I really have.”
I said it. I did it. It felt like a mountain had been lifted off my chest. I was finally relaxed.
“Oh, Cyrus… we haven’t even seen each other’s faces in half a decade,” she said.
“And I’ve hated every bit of the time I’ve spent without you,” I replied.
It was happening. I was talking to her. She didn’t get mad or start yelling at me. It was… normal.
“Oh, how sad, Cyrus,” she said.
“Answer me, Iris. Have you loved me back?” I asked, desperation dripping from my eyes.
“Cyrus… yes, I have. I have loved you so much. All this time, I’ve spent these past years yearning for you, wanting to be with you,” she said.
“She said that?” My thoughts spiraled.
There were fireworks inside me. My whole body felt like it was about to shoot up into the air and explode into a million pieces.
“Will you be with me, Iris?” I asked, my face probably looking like a rainbow.
“Oh, how I wish I could be with you, my love,” she said.
I died inside at that moment.
“But you just said you have loved me all these years, Iris. Why won’t you be with me?” I said, tears brewing in my eyes.
“Cyrus, my love… I can’t,” she said.
“But why… please, Iris. I need you,” I said, tears now rolling down my face.
And then, she told me. She told me her story.
“Cyrus, my love, there’s a man whose father my family works for. We owe him a lot, and he takes advantage of that. He treats us inhumanly. I can’t stand seeing my parents treated like slaves. That man said that if I marry his son, my family will be on equal footing with him. My father, with tears in his eyes, begged me to do this for them… Even if he hadn’t, I would have said yes. And I already have, Cyrus. My love, I’m sorry,” she said.
I felt my heart tear apart, my skin shatter like glass, my brain shut down. I have no idea why I didn’t die right then.
“…”
I didn’t know what to say. I was dead.
“Cyrus, I will always love you,” she said.
Well, she did love me back. That’s what I wanted, no?
“Can we be together just for today, at least? Iris, please,” I begged, crying and gasping like a little kid.
“I want to be with you, I really do, Cyrus. But I don’t want to make this harder for both of us. You know it’s better if we… I really do want to be with you, Cyrus… Okay, just for today, we can be together, my love,” she said, tears welling up in her eyes.
Right then, I laughed.
“Well, Iris… let’s remember this night as our whole life. Shall we?” I said.
I was happy. I wanted to live in the moment, so why bother thinking about the future?
We held hands, made eye contact, and talked and talked and talked… We talked for hours. We didn’t eat. We didn’t look anywhere but into each other’s eyes.
What better sight was there anyway?
We spent the whole night together. It was 1:34 AM when someone came and told us that someone was there to pick Iris up.
Reality hit me again. But I didn’t cry. How could I? This was the happiest I would ever be — I knew that.
She looked at me, and I looked at her. Neither of us said anything. Neither of us wanted to say goodbye.
Then, the person took her. She was gone again.
I don’t remember what I did that night after she left.
Or rather, I don’t remember anything about my life.
What was my life?
I don’t remember anything.
My parents? My friends? My siblings? Did I have them?
I don’t know.
-Cyrus a dementia patient