I am longing to remember. The water feels cool, the sound of it lapping against the rocks at the same tempo as my heartbeat. Don’t you remember her? No, I can’t. I can’t picture her face. I draw circles in the water, and they disappear before my finger makes its way back to the beginning. That’s how my memory is, and has been for a while now. My psychiatrist takes me off of a medication, in hopes that it is a side effect that will go away. It’s still here, I tell him, and it worries me. What if I have some form of dementia?

He suggests that I see a neurologist. It seems drastic to me, as some of his suggestions do from time to time, but I should probably follow through. We are of like minds when it comes to the remainder of my medication regimen – it’s been working so well, that we don’t want to tweak it. But what if one of those medications is the culprit? Am I willing to sacrifice my short term and working memory to keep my bipolar at bay? It is entirely possible that the bipolar itself is causing the memory issues. In that case, leaving my drug regimen as is would be the best decision.

The water is so clear I can see the rocks huddled together. It’s a beautiful sight, but in my frustration, I am tempted to reach in and stir up the sand, concealing the rocks. I search for a rock perfect for skimming, and glide it over the surface of the water. One, two, three skips. My mind wanders back and I can see another face, clear as the water. I can hear her laughter and I feel her presence. Memories come to the surface and I know I will not forget.