The 29th of February, the day I was born.
When I wake up on this day, I’m in a different city, with a different life and no memory of the lives I had before this one. Today is the tenth time this has happened to me. The tenth time I’ve had to figure out where the hell I am. The tenth time I’ve had to try and work out who the hell I am. This is the tenth alteration of the person I am. Each of us has had different lives, different backgrounds and different families. But there’s always been one constant.
He’s the reason I keep doing this. He’s the reason I spend four years searching. If I’m lucky, I’ll get the trigger and find him quickly and we can spend those four years together before I disappear again. If I’m not, we might get a year, a month or even just a day. Once we got nothing, but that was a choice.
And every time it happens, he patiently waits for me. He says that every time I come back to him, it’s like falling in love with me all over again. I say that every time I come back, I fall even more in love with him than before.
It scares me that one day I won’t be able to find him at all, because when that day comes, I’m not sure I’ll want to keep going. He is my strength, my protector, my one and only constant.
I love him.
He loves me.
But every four years, I lose myself.
And every four years, I have to find him.
This is our story.