“And you know damn well for you I would ruin myself a million little times.“

https://open.spotify.com/track/2NmsngXHeC1GQ9wWrzhOMf?si=2b1e7b3dedfa479d

cw / conversation about mental health and death, sexual activity (implied)

End of February, 2024. Private mental institution, somewhere in Bogor, West Java.

“I think he’s getting better, Al.”

Alexandra sighed. What she saw, clearly he did not see.

He was getting better, if better meant he no longer recognized his daughter. He was getting better, if better meant he no longer searched for his dead wife because he slowly lost his memory of her. He was getting better, if better meant that the possibility of his recovery was getting even thinner compared to their last visit.

But she did not want to disagree with Nicholas, so she just nodded. “I guess so.”

“Don’t you think so? He’s brighter compared to our last visit. He played chess with other patients. I mean, it will take a while until he remembers you again… But I think we’re getting there.”

Alexandra had prayed that she could be as remotely hopeful as Nicholas, but she could not find anything inside of her—hopes, dreams, desires, all were long gone. It had been gone for a while now, and she did not bother to search for it. For once, she thought that it was easier to live without them. It was easier to just accept whatever fate handed her, to just think about today, to just breathe. But even breathing felt heavy now, as whenever she drew one, thousand of pricks were stabbing her lungs.

She felt Nicholas’ calloused fingers wrapped around hers with a purpose of comfort, but instead of being encouraged, it seemed that his touch made her feel disheartened.

Usually, Nicholas’ touch was limited to their secret affair, and she knew that it meant nothing for him, so it meant nothing for her too. However, the way Nicholas held her hand throughout the visit and how he still had not let her go even when they were already inside the car on their way back to Alexandra’s apartment, she did not know how to categorize this.

Was it empathy? Was it familiarity? Was it affection, or was it pity? She could not bring herself to ask him as well—so she let his thumb brushed her skin delicately, she let him intertwined his fingers in between hers as the car stopped in the middle of Jakarta’s mad traffic.

At least she was not alone in this.

“I showed him a picture of Mom, and he… said nothing.”

“So you’d prefer him to remember her? His memory of her was giving him agony, Al.”

Alexandra looked outside the window. “I’m okay with him forgetting me, but if memories of Mom started to fade away in him, I… I don’t know what to do. Mom’s been gone for too long, and she only lived inside my memory and his. If he forgets her… She’d only live in mine. I will have no one to reminisce her with.”

Nicholas squeezed Alexandra’s hand. “She lives in mine too, Al.”

Yeah, but what are we? One day you will forget her too, when I’m no longer useful to you.