27 Reconnecting: Forgotten, Thomas

Why do I always feel so damn desperate? It's like I'm drowning in this pit of despair. Have I always lived my life like this? Being treated like crap, completely wallowing in this humiliation.

I've never really felt betrayed before, but why does it feel like that now? I guess it's just how the police operate, right?

  Somehow, though, I'm starting to regret how I talked to Noah earlier. I probably shouldn't have been so harsh with him.

Out of the blue, I heard a voice shouting, like someone calling my name from a distance. "Jeff!"

Before I could even spin around to see who it was, he kept going, "Is that really you, Jeff?"

I turned to see a young man approaching. His blond hair had hints of light brown, and his eyes were as blue as the open sky, inviting you to fly freely in its vastness. He was dressed in a sleek black long-sleeved shirt, and he towered over me in height.

But why was my chest suddenly pounding with pain? Each heartbeat felt like a sharp jolt, and my hands trembled uncontrollably, all without any clear reason.

With each measured step, he closed the gap between us and exclaimed from a distance, "Oh dear! It's really you, Jeff!"

As his voice grew clearer, it triggered a sense of recognition within me, as if there was an undeniable connection between us. However, my mind remained void of any images.

He approached, narrowing the distance, and I couldn't help but ask, "Yes, I am Jeff... but who are you?"

In an instant, he displayed a strange reaction. His eyes widened in shock, followed by a somber expression on his face. Then, he managed a smile and said, "So, it was true. I didn't believe him at the time, but you really forgot everything..."

I couldn't help but wonder who he was referring to, but a slight twinge of guilt crept over me. He seemed to know me, and my earlier reaction had indeed been strange and unexpected.

I responded, "Yes, I did forget... but I'm sorry, what was my relationship with you? I feel awful that I can't remember much!"

He gave me an odd stare, then burst into laughter. "Relationship!" he exclaimed, then abruptly stopped chuckling and continued with a more serious tone, "Well, you could say we're friends, my precious friend!"

He came closer and gave me a half-hug, his hand resting on my shoulder as he gently turned me around. "Well, I'm sure it's going to be a long talk. Let's head over to that coffee shop, see it over there? We can chat there!"

I didn't feel like declining his offer, so I walked alongside him to the coffee shop. What felt even stranger was that we were having this conversation, and he still hadn't mentioned his name. I hoped he'd bring it up soon.

We entered the coffee shop, and there weren't many customers, just about three people. He walked ahead of me, directing me to a table by the window.

  We both took our seats, and without asking, he ordered two black coffees. He seemed oddly familiar with my preferences, which was getting even stranger.

He looked at me and said, "Well, umm, I'm Thomas. We used to be really close friends! I wanted to visit you, but I didn't know your address. You know, things happened fast, it was a sudden cut!"

I didn't respond verbally, choosing to remain silent. Just then, the waiter arrived and placed our coffees on the table.

Thomas lifted his cup and took a sip of his coffee before continuing, "We used to meet here all the time. I never visited your house, and you never came to mine. If you couldn't remember... didn't you ever feel something, like you had the same kind of feeling of déjà vu?"

I couldn't deny it; I had experienced those strange moments of familiarity. It wasn't just a sense of having seen something before; it ran deeper than that.

Thomas kept a close eye on me, as if he was analyzing every movement and reaction. Then, after a long pause and a deep breath, he finally met my gaze and said, "I remember this time..."

He chuckled and continued, "Someone actually robbed you while we were at the park, just you and me, having a conversation. We saw the thief and instinctively started chasing after him. It turns out, he was an undercover cop, on some secret mission. He mistook us for the culprits."

Thomas took another sip of his coffee and carried on, "So he decided to put us to the test, but little did he know what we were truly made of."

I scratched my head, struggling to connect with this memory. but it remained just out of reach. "It sounds like a great memory, that's quite the story to remember," I remarked. 

"I'm impressed you picked that one out of all of them, from the depths of our shared experiences."

He laughed heartily and responded, "Well, I've got plenty more where that came from. You could say it was a special memory, but also a bit... unconventional."

Thomas wore an unusual expression, his eyes sparkling with emotion. "You know, we've really missed you. None of us ever expected things to get this crazy. I hope you recover soon and remember everything, especially what's been happening with us and the others."

The mention of "the others" piqued my curiosity. Who could he be referring to? Was it about my other friends? 

I returned his sentiment with a smile and replied, "Thank you. I'm sure I'll piece it all together sooner or later."

Thomas sighed, seeming a bit uneasy. He glanced at his wristwatch, hidden under his sleeve, and then appeared surprised. "Oh, I'm running late. I've got to head out now. I assume you're headed home too?"

I replied, "Yes, actually, I was about to head home, but I wasn't sure where to go..."

Thomas rose from his seat and made a beckoning gesture for me to join him. "Then follow me. I'll hail you a taxi."

For some inexplicable reason, I didn't want to decline his offer, so I trailed behind him. Together, we walked to the edge of the street, where he signaled for a passing taxi. The vehicle pulled over.

Leaning in toward the driver's window, Thomas handed over some money and instructed, "Please take him to the provided address."

He then turned back to me and continued, "Get in, give the driver the address... and Jeff, let's make sure to meet again when you've got your full memories back."

I couldn't help but smile as I nodded and replied, "Sure thing."

I stepped into the taxi, and the car started its journey homeward. The day had been filled with strangeness and unexpected encounters and really off.

  Meeting my friend Thomas had been unusual; there was something about him that made me hesitant, like he was a person you couldn't entirely let your guard down with.

As the taxi drove on, I gradually became more familiar with the route, and soon we arrived at my destination.

  I expressed my gratitude to the driver and climbed out of the vehicle, only to find my mother looking visibly distressed.

Our eyes met, and she blurted out in an anxious tone, "I received a call from that ungrateful man Noah. I've been worried sick about you!"

I did my best to ease her concerns by recounting the day's events. The only thing I could say in response to her reaction was, "I'm sorry for causing you so much worry, Mom."