How did we meet ?

Temps de lecture — 3 minutes.

I know. From this utterly cheesy title, you think it is all about romance and stuff. Not at all. Sorry, romantic people. Not today ! Well, to be honest, it is about a romantic relationship… with your own brain. A love and hate relationship with your own memory.

How did we meet ? I get this strange feeling every time I come across someone I have not talked to in months. Someone that I have known for a very long time, sometimes too. I often ask myself, “how did we meet?”. And very often I am left without an answer. I try hard to find connections. There is always one. A place. A person. A situation. But most of the time, none come to mind, letting the bubble of mystery grow avidly. It is a total brain-blur. A dark place with no light. Emptiness. 

How did we meet? From a simple question, it then becomes an obsession that can last a few minutes or a few hours. Few days even. Trying to dig my memory in a desperate search for bread crumbs of clues. I want to move on, but any unresolved mystery will become a compulsion if I try to let go. Haunting me day and night. I need answers. I need answers. I need answers. For my own sanity. For the ones of the people around me. 

It’s like when you know a word, but you can pronounce it. You become another person. You can’t focus on what the other person is saying. Suddenly, you become the ideal-super-focused-person you dreamt of becoming your entire life. You giggle, move your head in all direction, scratch your head and snap your fingers obsessively. You’re trying to let the word come out so you can move one. But it won’t. And you won’t move on. Unless you forget about it. So sometimes you need to forget to remember. This is absurd. But it works. Sometimes. 

Sometimes, you need to let go, for things to settle and eventually get what you wanted in the first place. When I least expect it, the clouds disappear in the sky to let the sun shine. A little light sparks in my head. I got it ! I remember ! My brain finally wakes up with excitement. I am alive again. The nostalgia can now release its poison. So many years have passed. So many things have happened. But at least I don’t suffer from… dementia. No. Parkinson. Certainly not. ‘Sudden memory loss’. What’s the word for it? I can’t remember the word that describes the sickness for the memory loss episodes. How funny ? It’s not. At all.

At least I can ‘Google’ keywords to find it. ‘Sudden’ ‘memory’ ‘loss’. Press ‘enter’. Ah ! Here it is. Alzheimer. Well, I learned in the past that one is never too young to be affected by sicknesses like this. But I will probably forget to get myself checked. Here we go again… But, what about the person I thought of. I should do something now that I remember where we met, right ? Facebook message it is. How funny would it be if the other person, after seeing my Facebook message, starts to wonder also how we met. Without being able to remember, of course.

Wissame

Wissame
Wissame

Wissame Cherfi is a producer, director, podcaster and author with an expertise of + 10 years in the field of audiovisual production. Ten years that he now uses as a Freelance Creative Consultant to help clients on all types of creative projects. « La musique qui vient de mon cœur » (2022, French language) is his first book.

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