Randomly, without knowing, I let my fingers travel across my head and throat. They run through my hair, their tips lightly feeling the hills on my scalp. Then, they cross the crater in my temple to climb down my throat and reach the scar buried inside it (it hurts when they touch it). This lunar landscape is the evidence of what happened to me – my blood burst into my brain and nearly flooded it. The surgeon’s team spent a month trying to rescue it.
This landscape fills the gap in my memory. It tells me that something happened, something I only remember through others’ memories. When I feel it, I tell myself that something brought me here today; that something diverted the course of my life. And I tell myself that I will make the best of it no matter what – my tiredness, and the upcoming night that will bring fear along with it. I will keep sailing along despite the unpredictability of my destination. I will keep sailing because Eric tells me that he’ll sail along with me; because we’re in for the long haul.
This landscape fills the gap in my memory. It tells me that something happened, something I only remember through others’ memories. When I feel it, I tell myself that something brought me here today; that something diverted the course of my life. And I tell myself that I will make the best of it no matter what – my tiredness, and the upcoming night that will bring fear along with it. I will keep sailing along despite the unpredictability of my destination. I will keep sailing because Eric tells me that he’ll sail along with me; because we’re in for the long haul.