Amy’s gone and I really don’t think she’ll ever forgive me. I’m on my way back to my apartment. I figured it would be better to just go back to work. I keep replaying the night over in my head. The one minute Amy is actually happy and the next she’s hysterical, not that I blame her. In her mind it all just happened. I wonder if she remembers the past few weeks and that we actually got along. I wonder if I’ll ever see that warmth in her eyes again. I’m confused so I can only imagine how she must feel. When I walk into the apartment, I go straight to the kitchen and grab a beer. Fuck this! I take the six pack and go sit with it. I drink one beer after the other, trying to think of a way to fix it all. ~*~ It’s been a week since the night Amy got her memory back. She’s not answering her phone. Yes, even I tried to phone. She’s not talking to anyone.
