We cried that night.
Even though the floodgates didn't open.
Little scraps of memories filter in over the next two days.
Sometimes, she remembers a whole event.
Others, it's a tiny piece of a larger puzzle.
It's exciting.
And frustrating.
She remembers me.
Us.
But no big moments.
So when I wake to sniffling in the middle of the night, I wonder if the splotchy memories are equally as bad as no memories. I hate anything that hurts the love of my life.
But that's not it at all.
"Happy tears, E," she says through her tears. "I remember everything."
1 more today.
3 tmr.
1 Sat
1 Sun
3 Monday, and that's all!
*cries*
