Day 1

They gave me a book. To write my thoughts and shit down in. The nurses. And I'm sitting here not knowing what to put, what to write, how to explain the thoughts that keep tripping through my fucked up brain.

What do you say? When something truly bad happened to you, when someone, an invisible enemy that you can't even remember, did things to you, for reasons you don't know. What the fuck do you say?

I wish i could remember. It would solve so much, answer so many questions that i have. About who i am, what i did to deserve this, what was done to me. But maybe it's better to not remember.

Because, what if who i was, was something bad? What if i deserved what happened to me? What if there's nothing TO remember?

No. That's not what i mean. What i mean is, no one has come to visit me, except the paramedic that saved my life, Grace.
Not one person has come looking for me, not one person seems to have been missing a guy of my age, my height, my appearance.
So who am i? To be honest, i don't even know how old i am.
I don't remember my name, i don't know where i came from, where I've lived. I don't remember who I've dated, who I've hated, where i was born, i remember nothing.

Every second of my life before i woke up here is just gone. People have no idea just how frustrating, how terrifying that is. I have nothing, not even a set of clothes. I am nothing. I have no friends. No family. No colleagues, no lovers or girlfriends. Boyfriends? Jesus, i don't even know what my own sexuality is. How fucked up is that?!
It's as if i didn't even exist before three weeks ago, as if i just appeared out of the ether, in a bed, like a ghost that became suddenly became mortal.
Only problem, is that i still feel like that ghost, insubstantial, and incomplete, like something is missing. Like everything is missing.
And all i have right now, is time. Time to think, time to wonder, to question, to search for the answers, answers that i fear will never come. What if they don't? What if i never remember? What if I'm always gonna be that ghost. Wandering this town, these streets, always searching, but not knowing what for?
I feel like I'm in Hell, in purgatory, paying for a crime that i don't remember committing. Why couldn't they just fucking kill me? It would be better than living this limbo, not knowing who i can trust, who's out to kill me, who knows me, or the man i used to be.

Except, no one seems to know me, do they? No one has come to visit me. Which probably means that there's no one out there to miss me. What kind of a person doesn't have friends, family? A spy? A killer? What happened to me?
This is all i think about, day after day, after day. No one gets it, they don't understand what it's like to lose your life, yet still be breathing. I am a ghost. I am nothing.