The Forgotten Love Read online

  Forgotten Love

  15th July 2076, & 16th July, 2076.

  Dear Diary,

  You are one of only two who have access to my inner most private thoughts. The other of which is my dear husband whom I write about regularly. Harry. He has been my best friend, my lover, my worst enemy and my most faithful, trusted companion for the past 60 years we’ve been married, and for the 4 years of on and off dating prior to our marriage. We’ve grown old together; we’ve had children who now have their own families. After much the same ritual I and Harry shared, we’ve shared so many memories together but tonight I fear that perhaps the memories we share will be lost by one of us. Harry has been in hospital for the past 6 months his condition growing worse by the day. The doctors only gave him 4 months to live. They think that somehow perhaps I am the reason he is still alive. The bond we share has kept him fighting for survival, but it is a fight he cannot hope to win. Death cannot be conquered whilst living, no matter how much two people love each other. Their souls after Death may be reunited, maybe Harry’s religious teaching of a heaven are true and when it is my turn he shall be at those big golden triumphant gates standing behind St Peter who would grant both us access to God’s Kingdom, weary of separating us in the afterlife. There we would spend all eternity together in each others loving arms in serene, tranquil, perfect paradise.

  A man can dream.

  For the past 6 months whilst Harry has been confined to the hospital bed I have visited him every night, and will continue to do so until it is his time to leave this Earthly plane. Each night I read him an extract or two from this Diary to remind him of our love, the memories we share the good and the bad times. Sometimes he remembers and you can see in his eyes that every second of that memory is playing over in his head, sometimes a tear will come rolling down over his cheek whilst our hands entwined as he remembers. I give him a weak smile as I try to remain strong for him knowing that if he saw me cry it would only hurt him. He knows how I feel but he can’t bear to know that it is him, his condition that is affecting me so much. He hates hurting me. At the end of each night when he closes his eyes and falls into a heavy sleep where he will slowly lose touch of the memory as it fades away, desperately he will try and hold on to it knowing if he doesn’t he will wake up and not know who I am, or how much he loves me. And I him.

  “For better or worse… in sickness and in health.” I promised him this, and I will keep my promise to him.

  ---

  Dear Diary,

  After last night’s entry to the Diary I went to the hospital to visit Harry. Upon arrival one of the Nurses asked to speak to me. I knew something was wrong they never speak to me. The Doctor usually speaks to me to update me on how Harry is doing. The look in her eyes was desperately sad, this Nurse sometimes comes to administer injections and pills for Harry when I’m reading him the Diary entries and she listens too. I don’t mind. It’s nice to share my stories and memories. She is very fond, perhaps somewhat envious of mine and Harry’s relationship. Her eyes were wide, and wet with tears. She clearly wished she didn’t have to tell me what she was going to. She walked me into a small room with two small plump sofas, a small light brown wooden table, and a shiny silver upright lamp. On the table sat a box of tissues, I sighed at the sight of them. She held the door open and with her free hand cast a sweeping gesture to say ‘Please, take a seat.’ I did so. I sat facing the open window, looking out onto the night sky and the glistening lights of the bustling city below us. Just how Harry liked his views, he used to take me to some hills near the city up very high so we could sit and gaze down over the city and watch time pass by, all those cars, the people. Everything would feel insignificant as if nothing mattered but at the same time as if every little person made a massive impact on the life of the city, we felt like we were outside of the world, in heaven, looking down on the Earth, we sat on a grassy cliff edge, hand in hand, silently watching as the night went by until sunrise. The nurse crossed in front of me, snapping me out of my fond memories. A short smile crossed my lips. She sat down in front of me, and took hold of one of my hands. And the smile fell.

  “Carl” she said in a hushed cracking voice trying not to show how dearly upset she was. “I’m sorry, I mean Mr Curtis.” She corrected herself.

  “Carl is fine.” I graced her with that same weak smile I give my husband, trying to remain strong.

  “I’m afraid that Harry’s condition has significantly worsened since your last visit. We expect him to pass at some point over the next day or so.” She proceeded calmly. She squeezed my hands. She could no longer keep the floodgates from opening. I stood her up and gave her a hug. “I must be strong.” I thought.

  “How unprofessional of me, I’m so sorry Mr Curtis. It’s just when you tell your stories, you and Harry sound like soul mates, as if you were meant to be together forever.”

  “Laura. May I call you that?” She nodded. “Sometimes two people are destined to be together and no matter what happens, they will find a way to be together. Even after Harry’s death he shall always be with me, in my memory and in my heart. And maybe one day, when I pass I shall find another way to be with him. Don’t worry about professionalism with me Laura.” I hugged her hard. She dried her tears and we left the room. I slowly made my way toward my husband’s room at the end of the ward, Diary tucked under on arm arm, some flowers in the other hand, taking in the familiar smells of disinfectant and alcohol hand gel, the usual smell of hospitals. The lighting was dim for the evening. It was remarkably quiet tonight. When I reached his door, I stood for a moment. Hand placed firmly on the handle, not wanting to enter, thoughts of what might happen surging through my old weary mind. I peeked through a glass panel to see Harry laid in his bed, head propped up slightly looking out at the city through the large glass window. As I entered the room, Harry looked around at me, slowly, trying to fight the pain of moving.

  “Who are you?” He asked confused. Immediately my eyes welled up. Determined not to show my weakness in front of him I smiled that same, weak, pathetic excuse for a smile. Making my way to his bedside I revealed myself, as I have done every night for the past 6 months as his husband.

  "Your husband, Harry." I sat down, and took his hand. Our eyes met, and the glimmer in his eyes that was there the very first time we met was back. Just like every night. The twinkle in his eyes, the way they shine, the fiery lustful gaze he casts on me. Knowing this night might have been my last with him I tried desperately not to fall apart in front of him. I showed him the flowers before placing them in the vase. And then I showed him my diary.

  "I don't want you to read me the bible again." He said.

  "It's not the bible Harry. It's my Diary." I smile. “Tonight, I will read you my memory of our first date. It seems fitting.” I mumbled at him, holding back the tears and the nervous crack in my voice. “Do you remember?” I smile at him. The corner of my smile quivering.

  “I think I do…” he gave a quizzical look at me trying to recall. “We had pizza at the new restaurant ‘Italian Dan’s’ down town.”

  “That’s right” I splutter still trying so very hard not to break down in front of him. “We shared a pizza and a bottle of wine.”

  “White wine, with a meatilicious pizza – you’re favourite.” He said. A tear rolled down his cheeks, as he squeezed my hand. Hard. He knew he was going to die. “I love you so much Carl. I know it must have been difficult for you all this time I’ve been in here. I don’t know how long it’s been, but I know you would’ve come to see me every night. Carl. It’s time for me to let go. I’ve been fighting for so long, I’m too weak to carry on.” His voice was so quiet, he struggled to speak. I just couldn’t bring myself to stop him from speaking. It must
have caused a great deal of pain. “I’m glad you’re with me, I would hate to die alone.” The thought of him slipping away almost pushed me to the brink of complete breakdown. He gave a smile as he closed his eyes. His head tilted slightly in my direction, his breathe slowly parting from his lips, clinging on for as long as possible. The grip of his hand on mine loosened, and unclenched. The heart monitor let out a continuous ringing of piercing monotone noise as his heart stopped. In that moment I knew he was gone. All that pain and suffering had ended, he could sleep peacefully. I grabbed his hand once more and I gently climbed onto the bed to lay with my husband one final time. I laid an arm over him, holding him, face to face. Finally I released the tears, allowing them a free opening to stream down my face. “I love you.” I whispered into his warm ear. I closed my eyes and pretended for a short moment that he was still alive, we were both young again; on our honeymoon perhaps back in July 2017, or the first time we slept together side by side, holding each other the whole night, back in September of 2012.

  Remembrance.

  4th February, 2076

  Dear Diary,

  Today marks Harry’s 5th week in hospital. His condition is getting worse day by day. He now remembers so very little about himself and his life. I decided I will read him my diary extracts. One or two a day every day I visit him in a bit to try and help him remember. Today when I visit him I will read the story of when we first met.

  ---

  Dear Diary,

  Today marked the start of the final year at school for me. My first lesson of the day was Drama. You know I love drama, one day I will grow up and go to Hollywood and become a star of the silver screen, or I will tackle the West End. But there was someone new at school today that made me forget all my dreams. One look at him and my heart was pounding; all I envisaged was spending my life with him. It was a rather strange feeling. He pulled up a chair to join the circle, gave me a smile with his slightly chubby cheeks and asked if he may sit next to me. Naturally I blushed and I said, of course. He has the most beautiful dark brown eyes, they twinkle like stars in the dark night sky, and they looked fiery with lust as his eyes contacted mine. There was a strange atmosphere around us, as if nobody else was in the room with us, and perhaps he might lean down, grab my cheeks and pull me into a sweet tasting never ending cocoon of happiness as our lips embraced. He didn’t kiss me.

  “My names Harry.” He gleamed. “I’ve just moved from London. My Dad got a new job so we had to relocate.” His perfect eyes never breaking contact from mine. “Drama is my favourite subject ever, what are the teachers like here? Any good?” he pressed.

  “The teachers are amazing.” I somehow managed to expel each word from the giant ball of words mixing within my mouth in order and without sounding like too much of an idiot. “Drama’s my favourite thing too! Do you have any friends yet?” I enquire.

  “No.” A sad frown washed over his face. His eyes and face shifted downward as I ashamed. “It’s difficult for me. I never made friends at my old school. See. I…” he never finished.

  “I’ll be your friend.”

  “Really? You will? But. You don’t want to be my friend when you find out about me.” He hurled the words at me quickly and ferociously and I struggled to comprehend what he had said for a short time.

  “I try to be friends with everybody, I give everybody a chance.” I gave him the warmest smile to ever grace my skinny face. His face lifted back up to mine, and in silence our eyes met once more, and the connection was back, as if we should have just grabbed hold of each other and pressed our lips together. ‘I wonder if he feels this too’ I wondered. Enter my best friend Shan who naturally greeted me the same way she greets me every day.

  “Hey shorty found a boyfriend yet?” She chuckled to herself. I slammed my eyes shut hoping I didn’t just get outed to the new attractive guy. I looked back to him, his expression had changed his eyes no longer twinkling, his mouth slightly agape. He blinked and looked away from me. The twinkle in his eyes had left, the fiery burning passion behind his gaze also gone. I sulked the rest of the day not saying another word to Harry. Sometimes our eyes locked onto each other, but quickly we both flushed and our eyes shimmied around pretending as if we were looking at each other.

  But we both knew we were.

  If I don't go, I'll always think about what I missed.

  9th September, 2012

  Dear Diary,

  I am overjoyed with what has happened today. “Let’s start at the very beginning; it is a very good place to start.”

  I was sat in registration this morning dreadfully hoping to avoid Harry out of fear and shame that he is straight. For 5 minutes after the bell rings to settle us into the period there was no sign of him. I thought perhaps he was ill, or worse I’d scared him away, or rather Shan had scared him by revealing my sexuality to him and that he would never return. To my complete surprise he showed up and apologised to the teacher, his bus was late. I watched him cautiously as to not let him catch me staring at his beautifully formed face. Those deep brown eyes accompanied by a thick luscious head of black hair, shaved at the sides, lengthy on top, straggling on his forehead. His cheekbones only slightly sticking out from his face; his strong jaw line arranged in an almost square like fashion, perhaps an upside down trapezoid would be a more apt way of describing it. His slightly darkened skin was radiating with a red blush of heat. It was clear he had been running. He was wearing a pair of light blue pinstripe shorts ending two thirds the way down his thigh, his slightly worn white trainers joined with some white trainer socks wearing a somewhat tight white tee that clings against his slightly muscled biceps. He looked over at me, seeing me lavishly soaking in the sight of him. He gave a slight smirk as he hung his head in either embarrassment or disgust. As he blushed I knew it was embarrassment. He walked straight over to me, pulled out the seat next to me and sat.

  “Can I sit here?” He asked already sat. I remain staring at him, awe struck of his beauty. My mouth open, head slightly slanted my eyes locked onto his, the way his eyes look, they’re captivating. I’ve never took time to analyse somebody’s eyes before, but something about him just entices me.

  “Well can I?” He asked again, slightly more forcefully this time. I snapped out of my fantasies of him and as I tried regaining control over my body, trying to blink, accidentally only closing one eye. Yes. I accidentally winked at him. He blushed. Deciding to ignore what I had just done I responded to his question.

  “Of course you can, I would love for you to sit next to me.” Ugh. I made a fool out of myself. My first sentence to him on my second day of knowing him and I’m making myself look an idiot.

  “Good. I bet it’s not just, next, to you you’d like me to sit, is it?” He flirted. Oh god. He flirted with me. My face immediately turned red, blood soaring around my body as my heart picked up to a rapid pace. I bring myself only able to manage some sort of inhuman squeal. His eyebrow raised alongside his smirk.

  “Thought so. What are you up to tonight? My parents are away and I don’t like being home alone. We could play xbox if you want?” He voice was so innocent as if he were an angel.

  “Erm… sounds … good. But I don’t know where you live.”

  “Well we have drama together last period don’t we? We’ll go straight to mine.” He told me. I nodded my head unable to disagree.

  The rest of the day my thoughts consisted of Harry. His perfectly formed face, his playful flirt this morning. And what would we get up to after school. Needless to say Diary, I didn’t learn much today.

  After school Harry walked me to his house. We walked for what seemed like hours, but it was only half an hour’s walk. All uphill too. As we got closer to his house all the other houses became scattered and we saw very few of them, eventually we came to a large black gate on either side stood two pillars with a lion statue perched on top of each as if guarding the gate, a stone archway covered the gate. It was huge, must have been at least 15 foot tall and big enough for 3 car
s to pass through at the same time. Just to the side of the extravagant gate stood a smaller gate, much smaller, this gate is obviously meant for a person to walk through, Harry punched in a code into a small silver box next to the gate. There was a buzz and the gate began opening for us. I was amazed. “Harry must be a millionaire.” I thought silently to myself. We proceeded through the gate and up a long winding road that opened up at the end into a circular gravel driveway, in the middle stood a large ornate circular fountain flowing with water, so elegant and beautiful, three tiers each larger than the one above, water pouring from the sides of each circular platform. What stood behind the fountain was much more breath-taking, a 3 storey large manor house, a soft yellow brick colour, in the centre of the large building was a semi-circular door with two great knockers in the shape of lion heads, and a brass ring that surrounded it used to knock. Around the door frame grew a lush green arrangement of ivy, two large wooden plant pots either side of the door, a mix of red, pink and white roses, filled to the brim of the pots. Above the door was a stone block in built to the house which read “Holston Manor.” Such a beautiful entrance way. Harry took my hand and he said to me.

  “This is nothing, wait ‘till you look out of my windows at night, it’s much more beautiful.” His eyes were glistening, his voice was so excited. He dragged me through the doorway running up an ornate central staircase through the front door, running me down several corridors and up several flights of stairs, too quickly for me to take it all in, all this elegance and beauty rushing past me. I felt as if I was being submersed in wonderful culture and art through the ages all of it happening so quickly. Finally we burst through a dark wooden door and into what is a large glass room. We were at the top of the building. There were 3 walls of glass, the only normal wall is where we just came from. Immediately I was drawn to one of the most beautiful views I have ever seen. I walked to the window, or well, wall directly in front of me placing my hand against it looking out. What I saw will stay with me forever. The view of the entire city below us, the tall high rises, the small homes, the shopping centre, the large supermarkets, the parks. Everything stretched out before me. No wonder this is his favourite room. Everything is beautiful. The thought of being so far away from everything and everyone is such an interesting feeling, like you’re watching life unfold around you, watching people go about their everyday lives. I don’t know how to explain it. It’s just overwhelming. I felt like I could be God watching over Earth as we live.