Some days, I don’t love you.

It’s not because of who you are, it’s because of what you do.

You don’t remember me.

I wake up every morning with you sleeping next to me, and the minute you open your eyes, you start screaming that there’s a stranger in your bed.

Despite all the years spent by your side, waking up to you yelling insults at me still hurts.

I don’t deserve this.

But I can’t help it, I promised to love you for the rest of my days, in sickness and in health. The thing is, you don’t remember any of those words I said, you don’t remember saying them back either. I’m stuck with a stranger too. But it’s that light in your eyes, that crease in your brow that makes me stay and calm you down and explain… again and again just what happened to you three years ago.

I hand you the photo album I lock away every night so you won’t destroy it. You look at me with that spiteful look, but your curiosity gets the better of you and you start observing the pictures, start realizing that I’m not a stranger at all.

Like every morning, I go down to the kitchen to make some coffee and I let out a few tears while scooping the necessary amount of grain into the machine. I should stop wishing that sleeping will cure your sickness. The doctor says there’s so very little hope and yet…

I think that’s what keeps me going. The hope that you will return, the knowledge that you were once the only person I saw myself live with. I think of those precious and unforgettable moments (at least to me) that we shared during those two years we dated as I fix breakfast. It usually takes you about an hour to come down to get it. When you do, you call me by my name because you feel that you should at least give me the hope that you remember my name. But you don’t, you just read it somewhere in the album I made for you. You won’t remember that today’s my birthday either and that’s fine, you’ve already missed three of them and the last one we shared together was enough to make up for the ones we share and that you can’t remember.

“Kris?”

I look your way and smile.

“Good morning, Tao.”

You smile nervously and I motion for you to sit down.

“You should have breakfast.”

I watch you nod in silence and take a seat. You always take the same seat, the one at the one facing the window. It’s reassuring that your love for sunlight hasn’t died along with the rest of you.

“What day’s today?”

I hear you ask while I fix your plate. I smile. I like when you ask new questions. It makes the day a little bit less dull and not as sad.

“November 6th.”

“Oh.”

I set your plate in front of you and you stare at it for about 30 seconds, like every other morning.

“Thank you.”

I tell him it’s nothing and then I watch him it as I drink my coffee. I’ve already eaten. I never eat with you, I want to watch you instead. I notice you stare at my ring finger and the gold band nestled there.

“We’re married.”

As usual you sound surprised, but not disgusted, which is always a relief.

“Yes.”

I say. I’m having a hard time swallowing. It’s been three years. But you probably haven’t figured that out yet.

“I… I um, I can’t remember anything. But you probably know that.”

“Uhuh. It’s all right. It’s not your fault.”

I know it’s no use telling him, Tao always blames himself for the smallest things, but I want to tell him anyway. I do it often, but he never believes me.

“Why can’t I remember anything?”

This is new. You usually don’t ask why since there’s an article about you in the album that summarizes all of it. Did you not read it?

“Didn’t read the article?”

“I read it, but I want to know your side of the story.”

I smile. There’s no way I’m telling you about the pain… no way I’m telling you how caged I feel right now.

“Eat first.”

I order and I watch as you resume the tedious exercise and chew carefully on your food. I stand there and hope that you’ll forget the question since you’re already so good at forgetting.

“Now tell me.”

You say as soon as you’re finished. I bite my tongue. I didn’t expect this. I sigh and set the coffee mug on the counter. I have to distract you, to bring you back into the routine. Anything else might be dangerous.

“We don’t need to talk about it, what matters is now. What do you want to do?”

You shrug. You still shrug with too much energy. It almost makes me cry.

“I don’t know. What do I usually do?”

“You sing and nag a lot.”

I say, unable to restrain myself, like always. He smiles.

“Interesting hobby. But I don’t want to nag today. Today’s special.”

I raise an eyebrow.

“How so?”

“Kris… did you forget? It’s your birthday.”

I smile sadly. No. I don’t forget anything. My own memory is solid.

“Yeah, you’re right.”

“Well I think, that we should do something fun.”

I let out a sigh, as much as it sounds nice, I don’t want to have to wake up tomorrow with more sweet memories of you. I don’t want to fall in love with you again. Because if that happens, when you wake up tomorrow, you’ll break my heart all over again and I’ll die.

“We don’t have to. We’ve never done anything about it since…”

I stop myself. We shouldn’t be discussing this. It’s too hard.

“We haven’t?! That’s too sad. Then we shall celebrate for all those times too. We should buy cake. I like cake, right?”

I let out another sigh and sit myself in front of you.

“Yes, like any spoiled kid.”

You smirk. I love how my sense of humor still makes you smile.

“Then we shall go buy cake and get you some presents.”

“I don’t need presents.”

I say, a little too curtly. All I want is you. The old you. I want you back.

Is that too much to ask?

“Every birthday boy needs presents! You’re being stupid, husband.”

I can’t help but be surprised every single time you sound exactly like your old self.

“Jagiya, we’re going out shopping. Do you have a car?”

I nod, giving up. After all those years, I still can’t resist you for very long.

“Do I drive?”

I laugh.

“Do you remember how to drive?”

I ask, amused. Your eyes widen with concern.

“I don’t know… I guess. Red is for stop, green is for go, right?”

I roll my eyes at your silliness.

“If that’s all you remember… I don’t think the people out there on the sidewalk are suicidal.”

“Hush, hush. Fine, you can drive.”

“Thanks for the permission.”

“You’re welcome, jagiya.”

And so we get ready to leave. We’ve never gone out before, not together like this. I always went alone and had someone baby-sit in my place. Leaving together sounded so… human. So natural. I’m excited. Nearly as much as you.

“Where should we start?”

You ask, as we settle into the vehicle.

“We can try the mall, you always loved crowds. You love noise.”

“And yet…. The way you’re talking, it’s like you hate it.”

“It’s annoying. But I’ve grown used it. Had no choice, living with you and all.”

“Yah!”

You hit me on the arm and I ignore you as I pull out safely out of our driveway.

“Our house is nice.”

I hate our house. It’s like a prison to me now. I’m glad to be out of it again.

“You were the one who picked it. Said some about it being modern and all.”

“You make me sound like a total idiot.”

“I love idiots…”

I say and to comfort you, I ruffle your hair.

“Why did we get married?”

You ask when we’re about halfway there. I break a little bit too hard at the lights.

“Because we loved each other.”

I whisper. Talking in past tense hurts me.

“Really? So I wasn’t drugged into doing this?”

“You looked pretty conscious when you said ‘I do’.”

It feels good to talk to you like this, like old times. We get out of the car and I insist that you take my hand. Just in case. You give up your pride and slide your fingers through mine.

We spend the afternoon lazing around shops and in the end we buy silly pjs, silly jewellery and some snacks. I don’t care about the cheap presents and the fact that I’m paying for everything. This is the best birthday I’ve had in years.

You pull me into a bakery shop and tell me to buy my favourite cake. I buy your favourite one. We get home and we eat it all, not bothering to have dinner first. It’s getting dark out and then I become afraid, something I haven’t felt in a while. Fear of loosing you. I’d resigned myself to live without you since you were obviously gone, but now I’ll have to loose you all over again. I can’t help it, I start crying again.

“What’s wrong? Are you sick? Is it the cake?”

I shake my head and then suddenly, you seem to understand. You always understood me so well. That’s the part of you I’m most grateful at you for keeping.

You hug me then. That’s not normal. You’ve never hugged me ever since. I’m not saying I’ve never hugged you, but it’s the first time you do so of your own accord. It’s the first time I’m crying in front of you as well. I usually wait until you’re asleep, but now I can’t hold them in. I want you. I want you so bad.

“I’m sorry.”

You whisper repeatedly. I shake my head and hug you back as hard as I can.

“It wasn’t your fault. You were out walking. Someone burned a red light and decided to make spaghetti out of your brains.”

I say through my endless sobs. You snicker. I think you’re crying as well.

“How can you make jokes about my brain?...”

“After three years… all you can do is joke about it.”

You push me back and kiss me softly. I die inside.

I let you kiss me, because I can’t stop crying and I can’t stop you. I don’t know why today is so different, but I’m glad, so glad that  I bothered to wait, that I refused any offers out of this life with you. This… this is what I’ve been waiting for all this time. I am being rewarded.

“I love you so much.”

I say in between your kisses. You shush me and tell me it’s going to be all right. You’re a sweet liar. I know it’s not going to be all right. Tomorrow you’re going to wake up and you’re not going to remember any of this. I’ll cry again and you will never find out.

“Hey, Kris?”

You say after you’ve finished stealing my breath away with soft presses of your mouth.

“Yeah?”

I say, hiccupping. I still can’t stop crying.

“Happy birthday.”

I smile at you and you smile back.

“Thank you.”

We hug again and I wish holy fire would come down from heaven and consume our bodies completely. A quick and neat death. Painless.

“Make love to me.”

You suddenly order. I look at you, uncertain and even more scared than before.

“I can’t.”

I blurt out. I can’t even imagine what making love to you is going to do. What damage it shall ensue. Will I be able to live with you again? It’s been so long…

“Yes you can. And you will. Please. I’m your husband. You love me.”

“Where’s this coming from?”

You push me against the nearest wall and start taking my clothes off.

“All these years you’ve been thinking about me, now it’s my turn to think about you. So please, take what’s yours. Take me. I know you want to.”

I can’t deny that it’s tempting. Some nights I look at you and I really want to take you, like the old times. But I’m not sure…

However, when your fingers slide over my bare skin, I know that this is right.

Life owes me this much.

Hey, Tao, do you get it?

I love you.

No matter how much you forget, no matter how out of love I fall… you will always find a way to bring me back to you.

This is the path I’ve chosen.