Feb 19, 2007 Monday

My psychiatrist had read my first journals. He asked if I care much about getting my memory back. I wasn't sure how to answer.

I don't think I like Monday's much, because I feel as though the whole day is spent at my psychiatrist's. I get up, eat breakfast, leave, wait for an hour, talk for an hour, stop for lunch, go home, eat dinner, go to bed.

Mother asked me when I came out of my psychiatrist's office if my memory "felt close to coming back" I wasn't sure what that meant, so I just said no.

Feb 20, 2007 Tuesday

Paul and I watched TV together again today, after school (his school). We didn't really watch much, though, we mostly talked. I learned that he's 17 and taking basic courses at the local community college. I'm 16, one year younger. He's been skipping class a lot lately, he told me, so he could look after me. My mother is home all the time, so I don't think he means making sure I eat and stuff. He did say that he's not so worried anymore, because I'm tough. I don't think I'm tough, just hollow.

Feb 21, 2007 Wednesday

I asked mother what my favorite flavor of ice cream is, and could I have some. Paul suggested I do it. He said all I have to do is ask "did I used to like " and she'll give it to me. I tried it out. He's right.

I guess I must have liked pink a lot, because that's the color of my room and strawberry ice cream.

Feb 22, 2007 Thursday

Paul called me smart today. And he said it's weird that I'm still smart, that I know things. I know it's weird. It's weird to know the capitol of the United States is Washington DC but not to know where the peanut butter is kept. It's weird to be able to do basic multiplication in my head, but have to work hard to keep my words in the right order and tense.

It's weird to know the word 'tense' but have absolutely no idea how.

Feb 23, 2007 Friday

I spent the day going through my book shelves. There were picture albums of people I didn't recognize, and book covers that looked familiar, but were hard to place. Struggling through a poetry book now, called "The Romance of Victoria". It makes me feel good, old words, even though I can't understand them all.

It scares me a little that even though I have my old life all around me, I cannot remember it. I focused hard on some of the faces in the albums, but nothing. I'm not sure how to take this. Maybe they're fake people, the way I was.

Feb 24, 2007 Saturday

Today I decided to ask Paul's help to look through my things. He gave me this weird look, and then said "after all these years of violently keeping me out, now you actually want me to get in your stuff?" I nodded, and I suppose that was enough for him.

We spent the whole day looking through my closet and under my bed. We found shoe boxes with love notes from "that dorky guy who used to like you" (Paul said). It was odd, we both agreed, because Old Kelly did not like dorky guys.

"maybe you did like him" Paul said "maybe you liked him, but didn't want to risk not being popular"

His name is James.

I was hoping we'd find a diary, but Paul says I gave that up years ago, because he kept stealing it.

Feb 25, 2007 Sunday

Paul didn't come to church this Sunday.