“To fabricate imaginary experiences as compensation for loss of memory”
Everyday I’d look in the mirror and be proud of who I was.
Flying grades had made me dux, and popularity had crowned me captain;
My prettiness and sweetness drew everyone in, not a single soul could resist being my friend;
We had each others backs, my friends and I. We never fought, were never jealous, and always built each other up;
My boyfriend was faithful, chivalrous, and gentle. I was the only one for him, and he was the only one for me;
Of course, my home life was impeccable too. Model mother, financial father, and sensible siblings;
I had the perfect life.
But perhaps I just confabulate my adolescent years.