Forgotten But Not Gone
There now, steady love, so few come and don't go
Will you, won't you be the one I always know?
When I'm losing my control, the city spins around
You're the only one who knows, you slow it down
-The Fray
(Look After You)
You Are All I Need
Her parents had died in a car crash, about three years or so after she'd moved back in with them. She was only sixteen. When they'd died he aunt and Uncle reached out to her but she denied their help, and demanded she live on her own in her parent's big empty house. After their death they decided if she did that she'd need to see a shrink. But her parents death was impacting her life to much, making her sad and depressed so for some reason she began blocking it out. She packed the old useless memories into boxes in her head and taped them shut. She'd forgotten her life before she moved with her parents because she wanted to believe that she'd never wasted any time without them. She'd forgotten they'd died and she spent the rest of her life thinking they were still alive. She didn't know why, but that was the way it was.
She returned to her shrink and he told her since all the emotions were so painful she'd repressed her memory in order to deal with the pain. He told her it happened to other people, it wasn't common, but not unheard of.
When Cammie found out she'd forgotten a huge chunk of her life she felt relieved and devastated at the same time. Relieved because now she knew her whole life wasn't a waste, and she wasn't going to let it run her run into the ground anymore. But she was devastated, well, because she found out he parents were dead. Even though it was her second time knowing the pain felt as fresh and sharp as though it had just happened.
Zach couldn't help but staring at Cammie on the couch, tears streaming down her face. He wanted to comfort her but was too stunned to move. So he just sat there and watched, his guilt burning his body.
"Cammie—" he choked but couldn't find the words he wanted to say. He didn't know what to say. What do you say to a girl who just found out, probably for the second time, that her parents were dead? Exactly. He didn't know either.
After what felt like a life time he managed to get up and shuffle his feet across the floor, taking a seat next to her. "I'm so sorry."
She just shook her head, still sobbing uncontrollably. He put his arm around her, bring her into his chest, shhing her even though he knew it wouldn't work.
It seemed like hours she cried until finally is became less frequent until she was fast asleep, escaping into a dream world.
Zach didn't move, not daring to jostle her. He wouldn't wake her up because he knew when she did wake up she'd just feel and overwhelming pain and start crying again.
He couldn't blame her, if what happened to her happened to him he'd probably be crying like a baby to.
…
When Cammie woke up her throat was dry and sore and she knew she needed water. She opened her eyes, which were crushed with dry tears, and saw it was dark in
Zach's apartment and she was lying in a bed with Zach. They were both on top of the covers, her snuggled up to his side. He was fast asleep, snoring lightly.
She crept away from him, careful not to jostle the bed. She snuck into the kitchen, downing a glass of water before seeking the beer out of the fridge. She needed it.
Alcohol was her friend; it helped her when she needed the pain to go away. And right now she needed all the friends she could get. She'd already finished a beer and a half before Zach entered the kitchen.
"You sure that was a good idea?" he asked.
She shrugged, it was to her.
He walked up to her, prying the bottle from her hands, "You don't need this."
She tried to hold onto but he got it, pouring the amber liquid into the sink.
"You don't understand."
And he didn't completely, but more than she thought he did. Zach sighed.
"You don't need it," he repeated.
"I want it."
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"No."
"Cammie."
She didn't answer, keeping her gaze on the marble countertop.
"I'm sorry," she heard Zach say. She glanced up at him.
"Why?"
"I brought this on you. If I hadn't interfered—"
"It's not your fault."
She didn't blame him. In fact, if anything, she would like to thank him.
"But I—"
"Zach," she cut him off. "I would never want to live the rest of my life in the dark. If you hadn't done anything I'd be in a bar in LA drunk out of my mind."
He didn't say anything.
"I needed to know. It hurts but it will make things better."
"Then why are you drinking now?" he asked.
She gave a small smile. "Like I said, it still hurts. Right now."
"Are you going to be okay?" he wondered.
She nodded. "One day."
"But not today."
She shook her head. "Or tomorrow. Or the next day."
He nodded, seeming to understand her.
"I can't believe I forgot everything," she said. "I mean, who does that?"
"You."
She laughed but it fell flat. "I couldn't remember my own goddamned childhood."
"You do now."
"My parents are dead."
"I know."
"They've been dead for years."
"I know."
"And I forgot."
She expected him to say 'I know' again but instead he said, "It's not your fault."
"Yes it is," she insisted. "My brain blocked it out. Repressed everything."
"You were young, that was how you dealt with the pain."
She shook her head. "That shouldn't be an excuse. It wasn't fair to me. It wasn't fair to my aunt and uncle; it wasn't fair to the memory of my parents."
He held her in his arms, trying to comfort her.
"You remember now."
She nodded, but tears came down her face.
"I should never have forgotten."
He didn't know how to respond to that so instead he just held her close, telling her he was there for her. And after a little while, very quietly, she said "Thank You Zach."
…
After that, Cammie moved in with Zach. He was her savior, someone she trusted unconditionally. In a sense, he'd saved her life. He saved her from a life of misery and false regret. He gave her something she'd forgotten she'd ever had. And she couldn't feel more gratitude towards him.
Not to mention she totally had the hots for him, and apparently, he felt the same way. He'd asked her to move in with him; mostly because he couldn't stand that shit hole she called her apartment. She obliged, happy to let him spoil her. He was so kind her, even though Grant was often telling her stories of how much of an ass he used to be. He told her she was Zach's saving grace. And she liked to think that maybe she'd helped him, although not as much as he'd helped her.
When Zach got home from work he found Cammie packing up her suitcases. He panicked, they'd had a stupid fight this morning, and he'd just brought her flowers to apologize.
"What are you doing?" He asked, panic evident in his voice.
She turned around and was smiling. "I'm not leaving you if that's what you think."
It sent a rush of relief through him. "Good," he handed her the flowers.
"Thank you," she said, and kissed him, their petty argument long since forgotten.
"What are you doing?" he asked again, but this time his voice was curious.
"Packing."
"Really?" he asked sarcastically.
She laughed. "I just thought it was time I saw my aunt and uncle. After everything I put them through."
He nodded, agreeing with her.
"Do you know what you're going to say to them?" he asked.
She shook her head. "No idea. I'm hoping it will come to me."
"Do you want me to come with you?"
"No," she said, not unkindly. "I think I should do it by myself. For now."
He nodded, understanding. "Alright. When are you leaving?"
"Tomorrow morning," she answered, zipping up the suitcase.
She grabbed his hand and took him into the kitchen. Grant and Jonas were sitting at the table, drinking beer, a sixpack on the table.
"Want one?" Grant offered to her.
She shook her head, she been sober for a month. Being with Zach showed her she didn't need it. Sure, she'd though Alcohol was her friend, and maybe it was. But it would only hurt more than it would help in the long run. And besides, she had Zach. He never failed to make her feel better.
He was much better at caring for her than any alcohol was.
"Nope," she said, and squeezed Zach's hand. "I've got all I need."