Personal Campaign: Iron Valley

Your New Life Is About To Begin…

I didn’t think this through—or maybe I did? I… don’t really remember. But it’s not the moment to back out now, the bus left the city behind more than half an hour ago. Not that there’s something I can get back to in the city. I feel it. I believe it. I’m not sure about it. I don’t know.

Everything… is not in my mind. Not in my head. If there was a reason—and there should be a reason for me leaving the city, right?—I don’t know it. How was my life before, I don’t have the slightest idea. Whatever happened to me, if something happened to me, was before my conversation with Buster, because I remember my conversation with Buster.

Well, to be honest, it is on my cellphone, so even if I didn’t remember it, I would have been able to recall it from the messages. But I do remember the conversation. How I was feeling when replying. How I was feeling while waiting for him to reply.

Somehow—that I do not remember—I got in contact with Buster, from Iron Valley—whatever that place is, there wasn’t much about it on the Internet—, and we talked about where I should be able to crash there, whatever the reason I’m heading there. I mean, I got in contact with him because he was the one letting me crash in his house. So we needed to talk about the way of getting there, when I was moving and how I was going to be able to arrive at his house. Indications, that thing. I got the bus ticket of the route he recommended me to use, and all the preparations for the move were ready. So…

I’m moving. For real. Without remembering anything from before that. And that’s kind of scary, but… But even with the lack of memories, not even knowing how trustworthy Buster is, not even knowing how I got in contact with him, and not knowing at all nor the slightest thing from Iron Valley, I feel better heading there. People don’t make life-changing decisions lightly, so I’m trusting in the past me who chose this. Even when in my backpack I only have… an assortment of fresh herbs… that I bring to my nose to smell and kind of recognize them. A tarot deck… that seems fancy and I know it’s mine, but didn’t know until now I was into that sort of thing. And a first aid kit. That’s all right, we never know what we will encounter. Or maybe I’m just clumsy as it is and past me knew something like my lack of memories was bound to happen and tried to be prepared for it, but was caught off guard because I’m still memoryless and that’s all in my backpack. Why that’s all in my backpack?

Okay, let’s… let’s believe. I trust.

Turning on my cellphone’s screen I see it’s almost ten am and it’s the First of Spring. Kind of fitting, I will bloom in a new place. Or try to, at least. Anyway, there’s no going back. This is going to be my life, for better or worse.