We Only Breathe For So Long

I fluttered my eyelashes, forcing my eyes to open and close rapidly so I could be awake and get my senses functioning properly. I had fallen asleep, right next to Eric, and I was too tired and my heart ached too much to keep my eyes opened. But I had to wake up. I had to take care of him. I had to stop being selfish, I muttered to myself.

Although I was still knackered, the sleep I got was enough. It was just a break. I needed that break. I needed to sleep so I could wake up, hoping that it was all just a bad dream. Mostly, I needed to forget everything that has been happening for a while, and sleep allowed me to do that, even if it was momentarily.

Eric started screaming. I took control of my senses immediately. He was twisting his body and shutting his eyes in pure, torturing agony.

I got closer to him, trying to find out where the sudden pain was coming from. “Where does it hurt?” I asked over his scream.

He couldn’t reply. The pain was unbearable. His hands tried to touch his stomach but it wouldn’t obey him, it would hurt even more if he moved them.

Ribs.

I ran out of his bed, entering his bathroom. My eyes scanned all the four walls while my hands reached for the medicine cabinet. As quickly as thunder, I grabbed the painkillers and ran back to him, opening it and taking two capsules out of the container. Gladly, there was a glass of water beside him already. I took it, sat beside him and placed the capsules on his tongue, helping him drink the water by tilting the glass up slowly.

He stopped screaming, his muscles relaxed and he sighed in relief. “Th-thank you.”

I smiled half-heartedly at him as I sighed myself. “You’re welcome.”

I put the glass down beside him, trying to catch my breath from all the running around and panicking. I had a hair elastic wrapped around my wrist and I made good use of that. I tied my hair into a high bun, not even caring about how it looked or if there was any strand of hair falling out.

“Who are you?” he asked. His eyes were curious, he wanted to know who the stranger that slept in his bed was.

“Kylie,” I said with a smile, “Kylie Manson. We work together in a bookshop downtown. But we’re also very good friends,” I looked down at my hands.

I wanted to tell him we were also more than that. More than friends. But I couldn’t. Perhaps this was a chance to alter the past and make it right this time, without the foolish mistakes or the unnecessary attachment.

I felt so frustrated. Eric had forgotten about everything in his life. He had lost his identity. It was as if he was trapped in the body of a stranger, not knowing what to do or how to react. He wouldn’t know what he liked doing or who his friends were. Hell, he didn’t even know his family!

I had mixed emotions; I felt sad and pissed off at the same time. Not to mention… hurt. It was silly of me to think of such, but I couldn’t stop myself from thinking about it.

He had completely forgotten about me.

It’s something I shouldn’t feel sad about because it wasn’t his fault. But I wanted him to at least remember me, so he would have something familiar in his life, or perhaps because I missed him. And now that he came back into my life, things wouldn’t be the same because he wouldn’t remember it.

In the past, I wished countless times that we didn’t share a kiss. Not because it wasn’t good –hell yeah, it was– but because I actually enjoyed it, and I felt guilty. Now, he didn’t recall about it. He didn’t even like me anymore, like he used to, because he barely knew me.

But why did it bother me so much? It shouldn’t. I was with John, we were happy together, and I loved him just as much as he loved me.

This was meant to be a good thing, the fact that he didn’t like me anymore, because this time he would be able to meet a girl he deserved. He’d meet someone better than me.

“So far, no one told me what happened. Mind telling me?” Eric asked.

I climbed on his bed, to the opposite side, so I could sit comfortably and be able to look at him in the eyes. “I don’t know much myself,” I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear sheepishly. “You went out, we don’t know what you were doing or what exactly happened to you to leave you like this, and next thing we knew, you were in a hospital ten miles away from home.”

He didn’t say a word. He was thinking, trying to spark something in his memory, hoping he would remember it all.

I saw how hard he was trying to remember, how much he wanted to remember. I touched his hand and smiled, “don’t stress too much. Your memory will come back with time.”

He tried to smile, but he had endured so much pain in the last 24 hours that he had forgotten how to do so too. He threw his head back, staring at his ceiling, and sighed. “This sucks. I don’t even know what to think. I feel like I never existed.”

I imitated his position, lying in bed just like he was, trying to make him feel less awkward. “Maybe I can tell you more about yourself?”

He turned his head slightly sideways to look at me, and this time he managed to smile, as if he’d been practicing in his head the whole time since he last tried.

“Your name is Eric. Eric Santini. Remember that other lady you’ve seen?” he nodded his head, “that’s your sister, her name is Jane. Your best friend is a total nerd called Greg, and he works in the bookshop with us. Um, you’re 24 years old and you are the funniest guy I have ever met. Actually, everyone thinks you’re the funniest guy they’d ever known. You’re really nice towards people but sometimes you can be as stubborn as a mule.”

His last trait got a laugh out of him. “At first I thought I was a geek. Then I thought I was super popular. Now I think I’m probably an asshole.”

We looked at each other and started laughing hysterically.

“You see? You’re getting better already. Whenever we make a joke and we look at each other, we start laughing like there’s no tomorrow.” My eyes were watery from all the laughter.

For a moment, he seemed pain-free, as if a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. And that made me feel better. Just by hearing his laughter, it made me feel much better.

“Did I have a girlfriend or anything?”

“Um, I-, no.” I said, trying to hide my uncertainty.

“Good. It would be all much harder if I had one. I wouldn’t remember ever loving her.”

His words felt as if he was talking about me, even though he didn’t know it. I shouldn’t feel hurt. He didn’t feel hurt, and that’s what mattered.

There was sunrise, and then the sunset. We spent almost the entire day talking; he asked questions and I answered them, and most of the times we would end up laughing loudly, and everything would feel like it was before.

My phone was vibrating inside of my pocket but I didn’t bother to answer the call. If it were John, he would have to wait.