Emperor of Mayhem

f i f t y - e i g h t

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DEPTH OF THE SEA
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All of a sudden, I desperately wanted to remember everything; my first cry if possible, my first step, my first word, my first birthday gift...my first crush.

How crazy, that I was gasping to remember all the pains, all the heartache, all the falls, all the joys, all the betrayal, all the highs...and all the time I had felt like I was at the lowest point in my life.

Why all of a sudden? For months I hadn't bothered much about knowing who I truly was. Because at one point I became scared; scared to know if the beautiful man I had woken up to staring down at me with so much love was an enemy after all.

I was scared of a reality where I despised his very existence. So as much as not remembering my entire life since I was born made me feel this dark void in my chest, I didn't desire to remember all the same, using the possible chance of a seizure and brain death as a perfect cover up, an excuse to why I was denying myself of real wholesomeness instead of pressuring my brain to remember.

But now, at this severe juncture of my crumbling life, I needed to remember, if not anything else, but at least the memories of Filip Petrov should come back to me. I needed to remember him. I needed to remember how I met him, how I realised I might love him. I needed to remember if my heart beats differently when I was around him. I wanted to know if I blushed differently when he would look at me, smile or do the barest minimum. I wanted to remember if he kept me awake at night in a different way. I wanted to know if I ever sat and dreamed of a future with him.

I wanted to remember how I felt when I loved him. Because at this moment, my memory of him was the only thing that could save or mar the relationship between Mikhail and I. Remembering how I felt when I loved Filip Petrov was the only way I would be able to tell if what I felt for Mikhail was love in its purest form or an illusion conjured by my desire for comfort in the castle of my captor.

I needed to remember how the love I felt for Filip was so I would be able to tell if it was the same feeling when with Mikhail. I wasn't sure if this made any sense, if the way we loved varied with different people. Even if it was like that, if love came in a different way to different people, I still needed a little clue. An insight. A sign. An example. Anything. Absolutely anything to make me accept that indeed, I loved this man or not.

So at this moment, at this point, the return of my memory had become a do or die affair. I needed my memory back. And I didn't care if Mikhail turned out to be the villain in my story all along or my saviour. I needed to recall all the emotions, because that was the only way this chaos in my head would quiet down. That was the only fill up for this emptiness sitting in my chest. The only numbing balm to this constant ache in my heart.

And I was ready to do anything, go to any length, stress my brain to near shutdown if that was all it would take for me to remember. To remember how I loved Filip.

Because I desired to truly feel that way, if not more for Mikhail. And if the feeling I had for him all along was an illusion, some dang syndrome, I needed to expel it. Because real love must be the only thing occupying that large space in my heart. Because real love was what I wanted to feel for Mikhail. Not an illusion in the guise of love. For Mikhail wasn't an illusion in my life. He was a fallen angel, and I believed I was destined to love him to the point of death.

"My lady," hearing the voice of Mr Putin next to me let me realise how I must have zoned out over dinner again. The last time I was found zoning out like this was when Mikhail left for Yemen and never reached out to me. Now once again, I was plagued with that deadly, pathetic ailment.