I wish I could forget–this was certainly the first time she hated having a good memory. For as long as she could remember, detailed memories of her life have hidden themselves in the folds of her brain–this was the first time it has become too much for her to bear.
A particular memory played in repeat of a night she lost herself in the arms of this charming angel in a dance amongst dim lights, cigarette smoke and dubstep. She could still feel the strength of his arms as he carried her while they swayed to the music. The firmness of his shoulders as her drunken head just laid there was comfort that she ever needed from this tiring life.
She woke up the following morning barely recognizing who she was. That face she saw on the mirror seemed a different person, something inside her shattered–was it her heart? her innocence? her barriers? She couldn’t figure it out but it felt uncomfortable. The day rolled away with her sleeping away everything hoping to wake up feeling herself again–but she never did.