Once? Forever to be more precise...

I need to hurry; I have an appointment with Dr. Gupta, a Neurologist. I take my phone and look at my reflection in the mirror. "hm, I've lost plenty of weight", I speak to myself and then descend the stairs, with my son waiting in the car. As I settle into the passenger seat, he starts the engine. I Suddenly realize "Wait, My reports!", glad I remembered at the right time but Charles sighs "Dad.." and head upstairs to get them. As he returns with the reports, I give him a genuine smile, maybe it'll cover me being vague. We drive toward the clinic. He parks the car right in front of it, gesturing for me to get off. I exit the car and then wait for him to park. We both enter the clinic and talk to the receptionist about the appointment. She asks us to wait in a room, Dark shades, natural light. Soon, we get called in. I greet Dr. Gupta and he returns it with a warm smile. After having a small talk with Charles, we proceed with my tests, my position and places changing according to the equipments required, it's a long procedure, afterall. Dr. Gupta prefers to have a little personal talk with Charles before returning to say that the results will be available soon. We head out. It's cold. I settle in the car and roll down my side of window. The serene white beauty. Charles drives me home and leaves for his work. My son thinks that I am oblivious to the fact that he is hiding my mental illness from me, but I'm his father, afterall. I open the main door and enter the house. I head toward my room. Quiet and cold. Like my mind right now. I settle into my Armchair, scanning the room for my next activity when my gaze falls on a trunk, an old one. I furrow my eyebrows, an intriguing confusion as reminisce about the moments from my past, trying to recall more memories as I attempt to open it, but I find my mind to be hollow. I finally manage to open the trunk. There are Photo albums and my favourite childhood sweater, which is atleast six decades old. I touch its wool, then my hand falls upon on an album. I open it; there's a picture from my childhood, labeled as being from when I was three years old. I flip it over to find a class photograph, probably from kindergarten, and I place my finger on the little boy I used to be. My finger touches something unusual- a face, or rather, the lack of one that is scratched out. What could the reason be? I flip the pages to find out. I look around, and my gaze falls on a yellowish paper beneath an album, I pull it out. It's a letter. I open it, and it reads:

Dear Love,

You know, I am fondly in love with you. I would spend my lifetime just to be with you; I would do anything for you. Our distance only strengthens our love, but today. I cannot close this distance. I m sorry for not being able to appear at the Registrar's office; I am sorry I could not be there when you needed me the most. But I am writing this to let you know that I love you; I always have and always will. I love you, but I am sorry.

Yours lovingly,

A

I take a moment to comprehend what I just read. It's a love letter or, to be more precise, an apology letter. 'A'. I wonder for whom this letter was meant and by whom. What is it even doing in my trunk? I flip through the rest of the photos in the Album, Nothing defines this letter. Then another album, nothing! Then the third one, the thinnest. I flip it open. A picture from my.... school trip? I look at it closely. A similar face and another one too! The rest are just a blur memory. Only two stand out, one is mine and the other... who? I flip through the pages, then I pause at one. It's her- with me. She's wearing a strawberry costume, smiling; I m looking at her. There are props in the background... an annual event? I turn it to look at another one; there are no more but then I notice something written on the other side of the photograph. Arcane and I, 12/67 ♡. My eyebrows relax. Arcane! 1967? I was 19. And what does this heart mean? Arcane.. .

I compare the writing with the letter. The 'A' corresponds- is that a clue? I manage my way through my old belongings in the trunk, my hand shaking slightly. Another letter! I open it quickly. It says:

My love,

I found it true when Friedrich Nietzsche said, "Though I may seem at times somewhat distant from you, through the grey mist of my own moods, I am never far; my thoughts always circle around you."

I woke up one morning and found myself falling for you. I woke up another day and fell for you again. Another day's consciousness got me into a state of love, in love with you.

I take another page in my hand and begin reading.

I want to be with you, in your sad times, your imperfect and clumsy evenings, lazy mornings- everything.

I take another page.

The memories we've made,

I'll never let them fade

not because my memory is strong

but because this heart cannot deny someone

who owned it once, forever to be more precise.

My breath is heavy as I read through these letters- love letters. Words familiar, but unknown. Arcane. My body starts to relax a bit. I try to regain my composure. I go to my table and take my tablet. My eyebrows furrow at few papers placed on it- reports. I open the file. Patient name: Ambrose Wadsworth; my reports. I flip through them and read: Senile Dementia. It may be a disease, my mental disease. I settle into my armchair. Arcane- she loved me; we were so in love. What could have made her take such a heartbreaking decision? She betrayed me. But what troubles me more is... I don't remember..... anything. These letters, photographs- ARCANE! I open my phone and Google to search for the disease.. Senile Dementia- I click search, nervous. My eyes widen as I read the results: Alzheimer's Disease. I close my phone, breathing heavily. I take those papers in my hand, then the Photograph in the other and I flip it over, tears dwell in my eyes as I match the handwritings, mine on the photograph and the one on the letter, so resembling. I close my eyes, a drop falling from my eye. Arcane! I- I should've known better, that it was me . Me all along the time. I trace my fingers along the face I used to love, the one who's heart I broke. The heartful smile, the pure innocent eyes. I m sorry Arcane, I let our memories fade. And I cannot even blame my mental disease, for the letter I found, explains different things. An apology can do no more than make me vulnerable to my regrets. I remember the day, I mentally- or emotionally marked as unusual, when I received that call. From a young lady, sharing her sorrow about the loss of someone whom she loved. Arcane, your granddaughter has sweet and soft voice, maybe she has the same eyes and the same face as yours, I wonder looking at the picture. You told her about us, didn't you? After all this time, you did reserve me a place in your heart. She was confused when I claimed to not know anyone of your name, but she was kind. You must have had beautiful children and grandchildren. You must know Arcane, you're Immortal in the hearts of people who love you. In their thoughts and their mind, always! I hope you hear me, that you can hear my heart. I feel my heart rate abating. Hear that I'll be there with you soon and this time, I'll be there for you. I'll see you shine bright as a star, being a star. Forever and ever. Something that this world could never give us, this body of mine could never. My body is feeling... lack of feeling. Numb. My eyes shut close. You know what Arcane, the thing that I feared the most was leaving this world with regrets... and here I am, doing the same . I should've known all along the time.

that it was me...