To watch the person you love die, over and over again. It is a nightmare most of you reading this will never have to experience in the physical world. All you have to do it wake up, and reach your hand out and touch your lovers shoulder, call them, anything to indicate their presence in this world. But what if your nightmares came true. That lover, dying before your complete feelings could be reached. To wake up and remember their face, their frown, their tears, their blood stained on your own hands, to have the nightmare become your reality in every life you travel through. You always find them, fall in love with them again, they don't remember you but you remember them. It is always the same. You meet, you love, they die.

But you keep going. In some life times not having enough strength to move on from your loss, in others, forcing yourself to go on through a life that was never supposed to occur in the way it did. You have children with a person you meet later, grow old, then die, always hoping to meet the lover that left you behind so many years ago.

To have a lover, that always changes form, to only know them by the empty expression they always seem to have. You can recognize them, love them the way you did before; but only to have them look back at you with the expression of unfamiliarity as anyone would look upon a stranger. How lonely this can be.

My name changes, my gender, my appearance, my class, they are all fluid things that change with each of my lives. They change for everyone. But what makes me different from everyone is that I can remember them.

This Is My Record.