Some People Are Meant to Be Forgotten

Caleb and I were both survivors of the same car crash. We met while recovering in the same ward.

When he found out I had memory issues, he made me a digital diary app and gave it to me as a gift.

He told me, "Sadie, from now on, write about me in your diary. That way, you'll never forget me. And just tell me if anyone bullies you. I'll make sure they regret it."

Back in my senior year, I sat in front of a guy who was always stirring up trouble. He never paid attention in class, and he just kept kicking the back of my chair. One day, I finally had enough and tried to talk to him nicely.

He just gave me a nasty smirk and said, "Quit pretending. With a brain like yours, do you think you can remember anything you study?"

Just from that smile, I knew he'd found out my secret, although I had no idea how. It was the first time I ever felt that kind of malice.

When Caleb heard about it, he called the guy out and got into a fight with him. After that, that boy never bothered me again. No one else did, either.

I studied the same lessons over and over. What others could learn in a day took me ten, sometimes 20 days. I kept studying it until it became muscle memory.

In the end, I barely scraped into a local second-tier university.

Caleb got into a top university up north.

Later, he introduced me to his friends. While he was introducing their names, I was silently memorizing them, determined not to mess it up.

But in the end, I still mixed them up. I called everyone by the wrong name.

They exchanged awkward glances, quickly changing the topic and asking what our relationship was. Caleb was silent for a moment before telling them we were just friends.

I didn't say anything, but I couldn't help feeling disappointed.

After all, we never confirmed our relationship despite knowing each other for so many years. It wasn't wrong to say we were just friends.

I just remember that after that incident, all his friends found out about my memory issues. Word got around. And before I knew it, they were calling me an idiot behind my back.

I was upset. I even talked to Caleb about it, but he brushed it off.

"Sadie, they're just joking. Don't take it so seriously."

Was it a joke? Why didn't I find it funny at all?

I felt a dull ache in my chest. Caleb just ruffled my hair and said, "Come on, don't overthink. You'll forget about it in a few days anyway."

However, I wrote everything down in my diary. It still hurt every time I reread those entries.

I pretended not to care. I kept telling myself it was fine as long as Caleb didn't mind.

What I never expected was that he would call me an idiot one day.

That moment shattered every wall I'd spent years building.

Over 2000 days and nights, across seven years, every diary entry I'd written had been about him.

I scrolled through them one by one. There was no end in sight.

At last, I lost all patience and pressed delete all.

"Are you sure you want to delete all 2,396 entries? Once deleted, they cannot be recovered."

Without hesitation, I clicked "Yes."