Love and Loss

A Story by Dii

A story of lost love. Is it really better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all? Some seem to think so.

    There are times. Times when you are so close and I can remember everything. You, our time together, the way you felt, the way you smelled, the way you tasted. It feels like I just saw you- that you just went out for a smoke and would be right back. Lord, I always hated it when you smoked.
    And then there are days when you are so distant. You're lost in a fog, and I can barely remember your face. I clutch desperately at those wisps of memories, frantic not to lose you, not again. But if I lost you completely, lost the memory of you, would I know it? Would there be some ache in my heart that I couldn't place? Would I be constantly searching for a lost thing I couldn't remember? Or would you be gone completely from me, amputated cleanly, with no pain?
    There are times when I wonder if you are just a false memory, just a dream that I can no longer distinguish from reality. Did you ever really exist? There is no proof of our time together. If there were pictures, I can no longer see them. I can't remember who your friends were, or if my friends met you. We had no children. All that's left are my memories, which I have begun to doubt.
    They tell me I have a tumor, did you know that? A brain tumor. It's why my sight is gone, why my memories are - intermittent.

                             It can be removed, they say, but there are risks.

    They tell me everything that can go wrong, but I don't listen. I feel so cold, and I miss you so much. I wish you were here. But of course, you left a long time ago- or was it just now? For a smoke? I ask them if you're here. I think I interrupted them, explaining something with an evil, technical name.

                                     No, they say. No one else is here.

    Why did you leave? Some days I can remember with such crystal clarity, but those days are few indeed. Why don't you come back? I'm scared, and I need you. Is it because you no longer love me? Did you lose your way? Are you still alive? Or are you just a diseased cluster of cells putting pressure on my brain?
    I don't ask them if it's possible. I've seen it on TV, of course, but I don't ask them if it was just exaggerated, or if the tumor is even on the right part of my brain. I don't ask them if that's what you are because I'm afraid of the answer. If they say no, it means you left me, and you aren't coming back. If they say yes, it means you were never real, that our time together had never happened, that the love of my life had never existed. No, I can't handle either answer.
    I remember that class we had in college. Do you remember? The one where we met? We learned about the different ways people approached conflicts. Avoidance- avoidance was the one where either option is distasteful. People put off making a choice in hopes that the situation will resolve itself. That's where I am Avoidance- avoidance.
    Everyday they come in waiting for my decision. I can't see them anymore, but I can imagine them, in their pristine little white coats.

                           A decision needs to be made, they say. Time is
                          running out. If it is going to be removed, it needs
                                     to be soon. Make a decision

    But I can't. Avoidance- avoidance. Either way I risk losing you. I either live without you or die without you. I can't make that choice.
    They come in now, but it's different this time. Their footsteps are different, purposeful. Their breath sounds muffled. I can hear the snap of rubber and the squeaking of wheels.

           We can't wait any longer, they say. We either
                             remove it now, or never. Make a decision.

    I know now that they came in prepared for me to say yes, but I can't say anything. My mouth is dry, and I feel so very cold. It's suddenly very important to remember why you left, where you went.

                              It's time to make a decision, they say.

    Did we have a fight? Did you have an affair? Did I have an affair? Did you fall in love with someone else?

                    Make a decision, they say.

    Did you go somewhere warm? Somewhere cold? Did you leave the country? Travel abroad?

                                           Make a decision.

    Are you alive? Are you dead? Did I leave you? Do you still love me?

                                              A decision.

    Are you real?

© 2008 Dii

Author's Note

I couldn't quite get the formatting that I wanted. The dialogue from "them" is supposed to be centered, and I had to guesstimate using spacing. Hopefully it isn't that noticeable.

This is a non-gender-specific story. I wanted to keep it to personal pronouns- I, you, them. The only thing ever mentioned by name is the tumor, and I've actually been wondering if I should nix that and just stay with "it." But I thought that might be too ambiguous.

This is not factually or medically based. I do not know if you can have a brain tumor that effects both eye-sight and long-term memory. I did no research, and I am certainly no doctor. It is not based off of any real-life stories. It is simply a piece of fiction. The content is the product of my own mind, nothing more. The writing style was inspired by Kelly Link's short stories in "Magic For Beginners."