As Tomorrow Becomes Yesterday

Prologue

At night, I quickly scribble on a post-it, sticking the bright yellow note on my bathroom mirror before going through the ritual of brushing my teeth and washing my face. As I pat my face dry with a towel, I let my eyes wander back to the note, reading it over and over until I burn it into my memory. I sigh and replace the towel on the rack, exiting the bathroom and walking deeper into my bedroom. I move to my bed, resting my back on the headboard as I pull my knees close to my chest. A notebook and pen lay near, I grab them and flip through to the next available page. I begin to write...

May 24, 2010
9:21 PM

Yet another day is over and done with...

And I've thought about this, and I've come to the conclusion that I'm through with being scared and angry... Although, I'm sure that my previous entries have also said the same, but today was a new day. Just like tomorrow will be, and the next day, and the next day for the rest of my life. Everyday is a new day and today that is what I've come up with.

I'm tired of feeling scared and unsure, of being angry and hating the world. I hope that when I wake up tomorrow, I'll stick with my decision and finally live my life...

I'm moving, too. Away from here, away from this city...

I have no other reason for staying other than fear...

But, I'm tired of having that emotion run my life. I'm completely done with it. In fact, I've already called my sister for help. She was surprised, of course. It has been a over a year... But, she said that she'll help me, that she supports my decision and that she'll be here bright and early tomorrow morning.

I'll be moving in with her. At least, temporarily... Until I sell the house and find a place of my own. I figured that I might as well do it tomorrow. It's my first big decision and I'm not backing out of it.

And, it's not as if I have much stuff to pack. This house is practically bare, save for a few pieces of furniture and some appliances. I'm not bringing them with me, of course. I want a fresh start. I'll only be bringing a few thing with me to Vicki's... My laptop, of course, most of my wardrobe, books, photographs... Nothing that would require renting out a moving trunk. Or my car, even. I'm selling that, too, by the way. It's a late model, and hardly worth driving to Florida for. It'll be one of the first things I get rid of, and the extra bit of cash that comes from it will more than likely allow me to put a down payment on a new car.

Although, it's not like I'm poor or anything. While my grandparents have left my sister, brother, and I money... I also have money from the insurance company. And I haven't touched a cent of it. Until tomorrow, of course. I might as well, it's not going to go anywhere and having it just sit there isn't an option anymore.

Of course, you might be wondering what money I'm talking about exactly.

I'll simplify it for you. (The entire version can be read in one of the many notebooks that I've kept, I believe... Written by Victoria and John. I, of course, have no real recollection of this event.)

On the morning of April 26, 2009, just days after John's 21st birthday, I was involved in a three car collision and now I suffer from both anterograde and retrograde amnesia. And, what that basically means is that every day I wake up, it's still that same day.

With the retrograde amnesia, I've lost the memory of the few hours I was awake prior to the accident. And with the anterograde amnesia part of the deal, I've lost the ability to remember anything for more than 24 hours. And I've tried to... At least, I believe that I have...

Because this morning I've read through some of my past entries and have come across a few that I've written with things such as promises of not sleeping, that if I didn't close my eyes I wouldn't forget... But, in the pages following, most with stains of tears... There are words of denial, that I couldn't have possibly written anything in any of the notebooks... I didn't believe my own hand writing... And in another page that I've read I've found out that I lose everything at 3 AM.

3 AM hits and everything is gone.

I don't remember that more than a year has passed and nothing is the same anymore...

I've developed a system that helps now.

What is it? Post-it notes.

I've left quite a few around the house for me to read when I wake up tomorrow. Reminders of today, really. Even if I don't remember why I put it there... Even if I never will remember.

Now, all that I have left to write is this...

Words of encouragement to myself: "Today I'm ready to start living again. For all of the tomorrows that come, I could only hope that I stick with my decision. Life isn't worth living if you don't actually live it, after all."

And now I hope for the best.

*Amy Cena