"So how have you been, Reina?" My counselor asks, clicking her pen to take notes.

The fish tank seems a lot louder than it usually is, and for a second I want to go and unplug it, but I don't. I'm nervous for our session today. My appointments have dropped from once a week to once a month now, so this is the first time I'm going to have to talk about Carter to her. I'm not sure why I'm nervous, because in reality I have nothing to be ashamed of. I'm just worried that everyone will think I'm moving on too soon. I suppose it does look like that, but I don't remember Justin. I'm trying to move on from memories I don't remember.

"I've been alright I guess..." I trail off. 

She can tell that I'm wanting to say more because she cocks her head to one side before she asks, "Anything new?"

"Kinda." I finally reply, sending her a little grin. "I met someone."

"Really?" She smiles. "When did this happen?"

    "A little over two months ago. Well, we met two months ago at work, but last month we..." I stop myself, but I don't need to insinuate what I'm trying to say because she laughs and rolls her eyes. "His name's Carter."

"You're happy?" She asks.

"For the most part. He treats me really good. I've never been the type to settle down and fall in love with someone, well... that I know of." I stop myself again, but this time the counselor is looking at me with a confused expression. This is the part of the session I really didn't want to get to.

"You're still thinking about the accident." She notes, nodding her head like she's trying to piece together a puzzle. "Have you remembered anything?'

"No." I mutter. Then I bring my gaze down to my shoes to sulk until I suddenly remembered the experience I had last month. "Well, actually. I don't know. Something weird happened after Carter and I first slept together."

"Go on," She says. "Continue."

    "Well, I don't know. It was just a weird feeling I had."

"Do you think you're feeling guilty for hurting Justin?"

"No." I immediately reply. "It wasn't guilt. It felt like I was missing something. I can't explain it though. It was like I was trying to remember something, but I couldn't. I haven't had a feeling like that at all since the accident."

    She's scribbling away on her notebook, and I'd really like to peer over at what she's writing about me. It probably says I'm crazy, or that I need to go into a mental institution. I wouldn't blame her. I feel insane ever since the accident. People look at me and treat me like I'm some sort of charity case. It's annoying.

    "Interesting..." She finally says, clearing her throat. "Did something trigger it? What happened before that feeling came on?"

    "He zipped up my dress." I shrug, watching her write more down. "What do you think that means?"

    "There could be many possible reasons why you felt that way. It could be because you felt guilty for sleeping with someone else, when you know that so many people want you to be with Justin. Or, it could be that in your relationship with Justin the zipping of the dress signified something for you. It could mean that he, or someone else, used to do that at some point."

    Letting out a frustrated sigh, I roll my eyes and stare down at the floor again. I can't seem to look her in the eyes, because I feel like she's scrutinizing everything I do. "I don't feel guilt. He knows about Carter. We're friends now, so we talk."

    "You talk?"

    "Yeah, we talk. Like, as friends."

    "And how did he handle you telling him about Carter?" She questions.

    "He seemed fine." I reply honestly. "He just said he wanted me to be happy, and I am."

    She's looking at me like I'm not telling the truth, but I am. I'm happy. Of course I'm still frustrated about the accident, and about losing my memory, but Carter genuinely makes me happy. Everyone else in my life feels pity for me, and they constantly ask if I'm alright, or if I need someone. With Carter, he treats me like I'm a normal human being. I can go over to his house and hang out and watch movies, to relax and forget about the stupid accident. He doesn't remind me of it, he doesn't ask me about it. Instead, he tries to get to know the new me. He wants to know the new Reina. That's what means the most to me.

    "How often do you and Justin talk now?"

    "Once a week usually. He likes to go get lunch so he can see me I think. So, we normally meet up somewhere once a week to talk about what's going on in my life."

    "That's sweet." She says.

    I'm starting to think the counselor is on Justin's side too, just like everyone else is. I feel like everyone is pushing me towards going back to him. They don't try to put themselves in my shoes at all. I don't think anyone will ever understand how hard this is.

    Placing her pen down onto her desk, she pushes her glasses up on the bridge of her nose. "I'm glad you've found someone that makes you happy Reina. I encourage you to try and find things that keep your mind off of the accident, I'm just not so sure a boy is the right way to go."

    I give her an annoyed glance, furrowing my eyebrows together in confusion. "What do you mean?"

    "I've seen situations like yours before, Reina. Patients begin to feel like their memory is never going to come back, and so they create this new life for themselves. Then months later, they get this out of the blue whammy of all of the memories they've forgotten, and it messes with their entire head. All I'm saying is that I encourage you to take up a past time to help you, but just make sure it won't turn out to bite you in the long run."

    "I'm not going to get my memory back." I sneer, standing up from the chair. "When will everyone get that? I don't care if you've had similar situations, it's been seven months and still nothing. I'm done with these stupid sessions."

    Storming out into the hall, I shut the door without another word.

#

JUSTIN:

    The alcohol isn't hitting me at all. Alcohol is a funny thing. It's like, when you're happy and actually want to get fucked up, you can get smashed so easily. But, if you're wanting to drown in misery, this shit doesn't seem to go into your system at all.

    "Fuck." I mutter, taking another swig.

    This party wasn't my idea. Colby invited me to his apartment, where a bunch of fuckery still took place. I've grown into an adult, but him on the other hand not so much. I didn't want to go, I wanted to stay at home with this bottle of vodka and be content to myself. Drinking away the pain seems to be the only thing that helps these days.

    I can't seem to find a way to escape the hurt. I wake up, and I want so badly to have every memory I've ever had with her just vanish from my mind. The alcohol has turned me into a person that terrifies me. I drink the bottle to the very last drop, until I'm hardly able to stand. It's only then that I'm able to numb the pain for an hour or two. I'm lifeless, emotionless, and all I can think of to blame is her. How can the person that you once would die for, become the person that destroys you?

    There are so many girls here, so many girls that have been smiling at me all night. I could go up to them and influence them to have a good time with me, but all I can do is picture her sitting on a couch here with someone new. I'm trying to picture someone else other than me but I can't. There's too many questions that are left unresolved, and all I can do is repeat them over and over to myself because even she can't answer them herself. What makes him so much better than me? Was it my fault? Was there something I could have done? Do you think about me? How could you leave so easily? Did I matter to you at all? Does he treat you right? Do you miss me?

    "Nice work." A girl nods, taking a seat down beside me. I realize she's looking at the now empty bottle.

    "Thanks." I mutter.

    The girl's got this insanely curly blonde hair, and it looks like it could be all over the place but it's actually kind of attractive. I guess what's making me interested is the fact that she's not dressed at all like the other girls here. She's dressed in a hoody and jeans, and she's got a four loko in her hand, downing it like a champ.

    "Could say the same to you." I finally note, eyeing her can. I'm trying my best to be somewhat friendly to her because my heart feels like it's been ran over by a bus.

    "Eh," She shrugs and sits back more onto the couch. "I'm not much of a partier. My friend dragged me here, so I figured I'd might as well get drunk. Kind of on the whole to-do list of parties, y'know?"

    "Yeah." I smirk, letting out a small laugh. "I know the feeling."

    Mark, who also attended this stupid party, falls into my lap in a complete drunken state. "Dude," he slurs. "You need to see these chicks doing body shots right now. Come on."

    I hear the girl beside me let out a loud sigh, so I laugh again and shove him off of me. "I'm good." I say.

    "You need to forget about that bitch." He groans, taking another sip of alcohol. "Seriously, just come and bask in the topless glory. There are plenty of more girls out there exactly like her, but if you keep acting like a fucking girl about it every day you're never going to move on."

    "Fuck off." I mutter through gritted teeth, purposely tripping him before he heads back into the kitchen. The girl beside me doesn't say anything for about thirty seconds until she finally passes me her can of four loko.

    "Here," She giggles, flipping her hair to one side. "You clearly need it more than me."

    I don't take a second thought before I begin to down her drink as well, and that's when the alcohol finally decides to start kicking into my system. Everything starts to spin slightly, which causes me to groan from the feeling.

    "Don't mean to intrude..." The girl begins, clearing her throat. "But are you alright?"

    "Yeah. It's just that the room keeps fucking spinning."

    "I was talking about your girl situation." She laughs.

    "Oh." Then I pause as I think of what to say next. "Long story."

    "What else do I have to do? My friend is probably off sucking dick somewhere upstairs, so I've got time to listen to a long story."

    I spend the next hour telling this random girl everything that's happened to me in the past couple of years. I'm not sure what it is about random strangers, but to me they're just the prime candidates to tell your life to. They won't tell anyone you know because they don't know anyone that you know. The girl never spoke or interrupted me once, she just sat there and listened. Occasionally she'd nod her head, or shake her head in disagreement, but she never interrupted me.

    "So now," I finish telling my story and raise up the other bottle of vodka I had gotten earlier. "I'm going to drink some more."

    "What's your name?" She asks, tilting her head to the side. It's then that I realize that her eyes are this bright green.

    "Justin." I slur. "Yours?"

    "Ramsey. People call me Ram for short though."

    "Ram?" I gasp, letting out a drunk laugh. "Jesus, that's rough."

    "Well Justin," She presses. " I happen to not mind it. I also happen to think you should stop drinking." Taking the bottle from my hands, she places it onto the coffee table in front of us.

    "Boo!" I shout, earning a laugh from her in return. "You suck."

    "Maybe, but drinking away your problems isn't going to solve them. You should talk to her about how you feel. Ask those questions."

    Almost as if the alcohol immediately left my system, the memory of her seeped back into my mind. I wanted to take my brain out of my body and just go to sleep without it for a night. I wanted to stop thinking, especially about her.

    "Why do people leave?" I ask Ramsey, reaching for the bottle again. "Why do they do that? I can't leave people. I can't erase someone from my life. If I'm in love with someone, you're always going to be a part of me, you know? I just don't get it."

    "Because people suck." She says. "Also, your girlfriend- or,  ex or whatever, lost her memory. So, you might want to take that into consideration as well. It might be easier for her to forget than it would be for someone else."

    "That's not an excuse. I'm tired of people using that. She still could have fought for us."

"Maybe," She finally agrees. "But regardless, you need closure."

As this girl is staring at me, I realize that I've been talking about myself for the past hour and a half now. I don't know a thing about her, but what I do know is that she's one of the kindest people I've probably ever met. Ramsey might be right, maybe I do need closure, but I'd never get the balls up to do it. I want to ask all of these questions, but it's hard knowing that the answers you want aren't going to be the ones that you hear.

"Can we talk about you?" I laugh, passing her the bottle. She takes a swig out of it and winces when it begins to travel down her throat.

"There's honestly not much to know. I'm nothing special."

"Doubt that." I say seriously, the smile fading from her lips once she notices I'm not joking.

A short girl with a brown bob races over to us and pulls Ramsey to her feet before we get the chance to talk about anything more. "Oh em gee!" She screeches. "David totally just showed up here. Ram, we have to go."

"Um, okay." Ramsey says, glancing back at me. I want to tell her to stay, I want to hear more about her life, but I'm way too drunk to even focus right now. Let alone try to get to know someone new.

"It was nice to meet you." She smiles. She's absolutely stunning.

"You too... Ram." 

I bust out laughing from the name again, which causes her to roll her eyes. Before she gets too far though she looks behind her one more time with a smile and says, "That girl's an idiot by the way. I think you're pretty great."

A/N:

I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! I know that things aren't going how you all expected this story to probably go, but I'm excited for you guys to read the rest of it.

What did you guys think of Ramsey? Comment your predictions please! I love reading your comments :)

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