Two days before tomorrow

 

“Yesterday is

two days before 

tomorrow

the day after two days 

ago”

― Haruki Murakami



He had never seen so many books at any of his friends place. Most of his friends could never afford so many of these and even if they did, they would rather spend it all on smokes and drinks. But here he was amazed by the amount of books this one huge bookshelf on the corner of Samsa's room. Samsa looked at him as he was just looking through all the titles, searching for something maybe he had read. Samsa didn't make a bit of sound, she wanted to let him have this moment. She looked at his face, the lines of facial hair that his baby steps into entering manhood had brought, the mole on the left side of his nose and that smile. She wasn't the kind of girl to easily find people attractive but something about him just pulled her towards him. He was not even the conventional handsome guy, and she couldn't explain why she loved him. 
Samsa was a  fair girl with a smile which slightly tilted towards the right which made one of her eyes look smaller than the other while she smiled. She had the habit of asking weird random questions all the time and he always answered them. 
"so these are the books you always talked about?" Paul asked looking at Samsa. 
"yes, these are some of the few thing mom left for me, i tried reading a bit a long time ago, but never could, so now all this wall stands for is, unread stories and memories" Samsa smiled remembering her mother, the few memories she had now. As time had passed by she had slowly lost grip of many memories. 

"don't worry my Samsa, i will read all of them and tell you the stories in them"

They let the gramophone play the beatles. Yesterday played, slipping into the air, into the hearts of both of them. Samsa's smile and Paul falling all in love with Samsa each time. 

This is all that Samsa remembers of Paul now sixteen years later. No other memory of Paul remains. Only this one random day is all she remembers now. That old house and the bookshelf are all gone along with  the books and the memories. She now can't  even be left alone at just the age of 32. Her life after the age of 20 was filled with nothing but doctor check ups and rounds to different hospitals around the country. Now she had no hope left. She knows she is forgetting everything and that the only memory of Paul will also fade away very soon. 

She spent most of her time now reading, and maybe talking to a patient that had become her friend over the past few years. His name was John. John also knew he was dying. Cancer had swept away a happy marriage and a  daughter from his life. He was a fun charming salesman with a small but happy life until he found out that the fevers and bone pain he had been feeling was actually leukemia. When he told his wife about it, she at first was quite supportive but as time went by and he got worse and worse she left him for another man. Now all John is as a person is nothing but someone haunted by memories of the life he had. He still never lost his charm though, even after life took away everything he still smiled and talked to everyone in a joyous mood, making days of other patients better. 

That day, Samsa was feeling a bit low so she made her way into the cafeteria where John was on his wheelchair looking over at the young kids all playing in the distance.  As she approached without even looking John said " hello Gregor what brings you here" . Samsa was yet again shocked by how he always just by footsteps knew who it was but her irritation overshadowed this as he had yet again called him Gregor, poking her over the name she carried matching with Gregor Samsa, the man who became a hermit in Franz Kafka's metamorphosis. "how many times do i hate to remind you not to call me that, do you really want me to become a hermit that badly" she said sitting next to him. 
"Well i am sure the hermit you would surely be less mean"  he smiled. 
"I know you'll never stop, but i have a question today" she said as she always did. 

"of course you would not go a day without asking questions. What is it today that Samsa has come up with" 

Samsa stopped for a while choosing just the correct words to express what she really wanted to ask and said "would you have the best day of your life and forget everything about it at the end of the day if you had  a choice?"  
John was silent, he was taken aback by this question. What this seemingly random question did was send a deep thought into John, now he had nowhere to go but answer. To look at his life he didn't know how else could he answer it. 

"yes. if i have to be honest, i would choose to have the best day and forget it. Because even though i might have no memory of it, something in me would have changed. Maybe the day and the people i met left a stroke of paint, a small scribble or a change in my life. Maybe i wouldn't notice the change but it would still be there. One day we all will die and these memories will die with us, but that doesn't make everything we experienced pointless. Everything will leave us, even our own bodies, at the end its just our soul who will yearn for a warm hug maybe at the end of it all when no memories remain" a tear rolled down his eyes as he remembered his daughter, Delilah. He was sure she must have forgotten about him, some other man would be called dad by  her. She would go to someone else when she is scared. But he was sure also that maybe he had left some impact on her, even if she had forgotten him, her life would be a warm smile, the hug he was longing, the life he'd be proud to have played a small role in her life.  

Samsa didn't say anything nor did John. They both sat there looking out to nothingness, one longing to remember the other to forget. 

That night as Samsa layed on the bed, she took out her walkman and played a familiar song. Yesterday by the beatles slowly played, the voice of Paul McCartney calming her down. She thought about her Paul as she laid down. She didn't remember how they said goodbyes or what he must have done. These unfinished questions always haunted her. What if he had promised to wait she thought, but even if she forced herself all she could remember was that one day and his awe looking at all the books.  
O, Paul what kind of man must you be, 
where are you in me ? 
i wish i was half as good with answers 
as my questions seem to me, 
half as good as remembering, 
as forgetting everything that mattered to me. 
Yesterday, i wish i could slip into your arms, 
maybe read what we talked about, 
maybe sang a little loud,
feared a little less. 
All my troubles seemed so far away, 
O Paul, take me with you,
where have you gone away ? 

As the song grew louder, she was slowly letting go of it all. She was gone, gone to where maybe Paul and Samsa must have been. She's gone, with those memories to maybe a place she would be able to call home. Life moved on and nothing really stopped.

-neil

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