Beyond the Reach of Time

I don't know how much time I have left before I'm unaware I even wrote this. Maybe it's my feelings that change, or maybe it's my memory that betrays me. But in the midst of all this confusion, you remain constant. For reasons I can't explain, you are the one thing I hold onto—whether I remember you or not.

One morning, I woke up feeling unexplainably weak. My surroundings were unfamiliar and sterile. I was in a hospital. I tried to sit up, but surprise and fear settled in when I caught my reflection in the mirror across the room.

"How long have I been asleep?"

I looked so... old.

That was when you entered.

"Mel..." you said, your warm voice, something I know I've heard before. You spoke my name as if we'd known each other for a lifetime.

But I couldn't remember you. Not the laughs we'd shared, not the beautiful moments that you clearly still held onto. All those memories—our memories—were stripped away, stolen by the crude hands of this cursed mental state.

"If only I could remember..."

I wouldn't have to make you fall in love with me all over again. But somehow... you do.

"What if there comes a time when I don't see you the same way?" I once whispered to you.

"Then I'd only try harder. We're a match made in the stars, Mel. Whatever happens, our souls will always find a way back to each other, no matter how long it takes..."

You held me as you spoke, it helped against the chaos inside my mind.

Why do you still love me knowing it means bearing this burden? Loving me, knowing that every moment is in vain? Why love me when your devotion seems destined to end without me?

I want to remember. I really want to. But every few months, my condition worsens, and the distance between us grows wider. If the worst happens, why not leave me? Why carry the weight of someone who might never fully see you again?

Are these the thoughts I had the last time? Did I ask myself these same questions before?

And will this be the last time I ever think of this...?

There's no way to explain what it feels like to love someone who may not remember you tomorrow. But even if I could, I wouldn't change a thing. Loving her, even in bits, is worth more than a lifetime without her.

I walked into the hospital room that morning, and there she was. Mel. My Mel. She looked fragile, like she was trying to hold herself together while the world unraveled around her. The sight of her reflection in the mirror must have shaken her.

I could see the question in her eyes: "How long have I been like this?"

"Mel..." I said softly.

She turned to me, her gaze uncertain, searching. There was no familiarity in her eyes, but I didn't budge.

She doesn't remember me, not the laughter, not the life we built, not the promises we made. But I remember her. I always will.

And if I have to make her fall in love with me all over again, I'll do it. Every. Single. Time.

Once, she asked me, "What if there comes a time when I don't see you the same way?"

I held her close, knowing how much courage it took for her to say those words. "Then I'll try harder," I told her. "We're a match made in the stars, Mel. No matter what, our souls will find each other. Always..."

She doesn't know how deeply I mean that. How, even when her memories fade, I see the person she is. Not just in her eyes or her smile, but in the quiet moments when she's afraid to trust her own mind but still trusts me.

It hurts. God, it hurts. Watching her slip further away every few months, knowing there's nothing I can do to stop it. But I won't leave her. I won't walk away just because it's hard.

I don't care if she forgets me a thousand times. I'll be here every time, waiting to remind her of us. I'll love her through the chaos, through the pain, and through the silence.

Because she's worth it. Every. Single. Moment.

And if this is the last time she remembers me, I'll make it count. Just like I always do...