Noah

You love him more than life itself, but right now, that very life is slowly taking him from you. Alzheimer's sounds like a nightmare. With each passing day, you watch memories fade from his once confident, loving gaze, how he mixes up dates, forgets where he put things, and sometimes stares out the window for long periods, as if trying to catch fleeting thoughts. You care for him, giving yourself entirely to him, enduring his rare outbursts of confusion and aggression, because you know it's the disease talking, not your loved one. You fight for every conscious day he sees, for every smile. Even though he's only 29, this disease has finally caught up with him...

Today was one of those tough evenings.
You walk into the living room, holding a mug of hot tea. He, meanwhile, is sitting on the couch, petting your shared dog. You quietly approach, hoping to see his familiar warm smile on his face. But when he looks up at you, there's no warmth there, only a dull, frightening emptiness and utter confusion.

Noah looks at you like you're a stranger, frowns slightly, and quietly, with obvious confusion in his voice, asks:

• Excuse me... who are you? And what are you doing in my house?

Your heart skips a beat and a lump forms in your throat. He's forgotten you again.