Remembering is a Pain

Remembering is a Pain

Anne McBride

“I remember..” It was a common thread I keep saying lately, but I don't know if I believe myself anymore. Not when I keep seeing the pain in people’s eyes, when those words leave my lips without my control.

It’s not because I don’t want to remember or anything like that. It’s because I had hit my head years ago and I suffer from really bad headaches. If I am lucky to remember dates, names and places, then I have it made.

Right now I see the pain in my love’s eyes, begging me to remember the moment we met. I just remember shadows and then a pain for my troubles. They know what I suffer, there was no secret and they said that they loved me anyway. “Was everything you said a joke or a test,” I finally said.

They just blink at me, like I was talking in tongues. I might as well be, it was the same conversation that we keep having. At this point, I don’t know which one of us has the memory issue. But I know mine comes with a bite.

“What are you talking about,” they finally asked me. “I’m not testing you or think you are a joke. I just want to know if you remember how we met.”

I just shook my head and laughed uncomfortably. “You asked that every week, don’t you realize that? I think I only say, I remember out of habit or to spare us the pain.” I started to pace back and forth, I was starting to feel like a caged animal. It was not a great feeling to have.

My head was starting to pound, it was a warning for me to leave. “I’ll talk to you later…”

“Wait!” Whatever they were about to say, it wasn’t worth the pain that was building in my head.

I was out the door before I heard anything more. I had heard from people that I was running from my problems. While experts say, I am doing what is best for me. As the fresh cool air hit my face, my headache started to ease a little, not by much.

As I walked through the deserted streets in the late hour. I wondered if it was the right decision to leave my home like I did. But, like everything else in my life, it was my choice. As I walk into the endless shadows. I started to hear sounds that only echoed.

Sadly the only things I remember are things worth forgetting. The yelling, the pain that followed. It was usually my parents' fights from my childhood. Along with my horse bucking me off, one of the reasons I have headaches. The other, I had been pushed down the stairs from school and my father’s anger, when he slammed me into a brick wall.

I wish I could forget those. Those were worth forgetting. As I kept on walking, feeling the cold chill hitting my spine, as it traveled down. Letting me know that I wasn’t alone. I turned around, just I saw that they were following me.

“What are you doing,” I asked, not really expecting an answer.

“I’m sorry,” an answer rushed out of their lips.

It made me wonder if they were, if they really mean it. I mean, it wasn’t the first time that they tested my memory, or yelled to see how much I could handle it. In the end, I black out from the experience. It was not what I call much of a life. ‘So why do I stay?’

I turned my back to them. “It’s only going to happen again,” my voice had a sad tone.

“Where else do you have to go,” they reminded me.

There was a saying that I do remember. Hell was paved with good intentions. A part of me believed in God, I had faith that he would help me in some way. Something in me said to wait things out for now. So I go home and see how things go from there, only to see that nothing has ever changed.

Every night I would lay awake. Praying for some kind of sign. Until one day on Easter, I wasn’t feeling well and they had gone to church. Hours later they came back, only to find out they had gone to the casino as well.

“Why didn’t you call,” I told them. “You know how I feel about gambling, not only that you went to church. But you went to the Devil’s church on Easter. I don’t think I can trust you now.” At least I voiced my anger with them at last and it was valid and not in my head.

Ever since then, they didn’t bother to fight for their need to be in my life any more. It felt like a turning point for me, at least it didn’t feel like I wasn’t tied to my life to that life. Our arguments became more intense, like something was trying to push me out of the house even more. But I needed direction, it was I started signing myself to a service that helped people to communicate through the pain. Out of random, I got to be put into a group of people in a chatroom and in the end, it was just this one person and I left.

I noticed that they were picked on by a friend and I talked with them. As days passed, we found that we had more in common than the people we interacted with in everyday life. So, after every chatroom day and after everyone else had logged off, we would talk some more for a few more minutes. Until we were comfortable exchanging emails and talking outside of chat. Only to find out that they spoke Spanish and I, English.

We had gone through about five different translation applications to find one that gave us the least trouble. Once we had gotten to know each other better, with open hearts and no lies, with real photos and real time video calls. We walked away from our old lives, which weren’t working for anyone. Only that it was leading to a violent end for everyone, anyway.

Everyone had thought I was throwing my life away, once they realized I was moving to Spain. Each one of them thought it was a third-world-country. I had to remind them that it wasn’t Africa. But my words might as well have been wasted on deft ears.

As I packed up my life. Only taking what’s important, leaving things that don’t really matter. Realizing that I really don’t own that much in life. That only a few things hold very few memories for me. Just photos of the forgotten time.

As I picture a life across the sea. The headaches started to lessen. I knew then, God was guiding me there. A smile graced my lips. “I’m on my way home,” words left my lips, but it didn’t make the words untrue.

As I turn my back to everything. The pain in my head started to leave more and more. My steps took me away to the waiting car. I knew I was going home, even though I had never been there. God was about second chances or even more than that. He is about leading people, grace and love.

‘I’m finding my peace at last.’