She knows who she is.
She just doesn't remember.
She knows she's not alone.
I'm here with her.
I've always been.
I see her every day.
I talk to her every day.
Being with her fills me with more life every day. More life that I think I'm losing.
When I can't see her or can't hear her voice, I yearn for her, like I always have; like I always do. I know this feeling will never leave me.
I read to her a story, a tale of love. A tale of love she's heard many times before.
A tale of love she has lived once, a memory forgotten long ago…
I read this story to her every day. When I read, she's always attentive to me when I speak. She always has questions rising in her head as she is impatient to how this tragic love story ends.
So many emotions cross her face as I read…
Excitement, confusion, laughter, anger, fear, sadness, happiness, nostalgia, loss…
Once I finish reading to her I can only think one thing.
One thing I think every day.
I love her…
I always had and always will.
She remains silent for a while and I know she is lost in thought. But in my heart, I know she knows. She's always known. She's aware of that.
I know that she remembers. I know she knows how that is no ordinary made up love story. She knows it's ours, the story of our love.
"When I read to her… She remembers."
It only happens temporarily- it never lasts long. But she remembers me. She remembers us.
I hold on to this moment, as I hold her and whisper the words I yearn to tell her every day.
"I love you, Allie."
And in my arms she cries.
"I love you too, Noah."