Photographic Memory sucks…

My brain is *SUCH* an asshole.  I have a photographic memory, but I have *ZERO* control over it.  I recall the strangest stuff but usually can’t remember where I left my keys.

I had another life.  Before this one.  Before the kids, before my wife (well, after her, but before this iteration.)

I was married before.  It wasn’t a good marriage by any means.  We married trying to fix a broken relationship, and I think everyone knows how well *THAT* works out.

But before the marriage there was something that I rarely talk about.

There was a kid. 

Yeah, that kind of kid.  The one that is born before the marriage and only slightly longer before the inevitible divorce.

In 1994 I had a kid.  I was *NOT* mentally well, at 24 I was still a child, and neither of us were nowhere near mature enough to raise a kid of our own.  I did have the presence of mind however to realize how much of *MY* baggage came from my parents complete inability to…well..parent. 

So we went to a lawyer..did the right thing.  Found a set of parents who wanted to have kids but couldn’t, and we put our baby up for adoption.

We met a wonderful couple, liked them immediately…  Everything worked.

And 5 months later we gave birth to a beautiful baby girl.

ANd 3 days later we gave her away – secure in the thought that she was going to have a better life than we could have given her.

Now it wasn’t an “open” adoption in the strictest sense.  We were encouraged to keep in touch…through a neutral third party (their lawyer).

So the catch was this.  At some point, 16 years ago, I saw their name written on a peice of paper, and apparently at the time my brain thoght that this might be a tidbit of information to hold on to.

Fast forward to last Tuesday night.  (this is the “my brain is an asshole part”)

I’m working in my office, cleaning out something I should have cleaned out years ago.  When apparently, my mind, in a fit of doing the same thing.  Let the name roll through my concious.  I tried to ignore it…  At which point my brain said….HEY FUCKWAD and did it again.

I knew who the names belonged to instantly.  I knew the gravity of it.  I had just remembered the first and last names of the people who adopted my daughter.

So I pull up a window and go to google. (which by the way I’m not convinced should be government regulated because it can be VERY dangerous)

15 minutes – it took me 15 minutes to have their names, address, phone numbers, business name, and what high-school the kids both go to.

A quick run through myspace and facebook and I now know an uncomfortable amount about them.  (uncomfortable for them, I’m actually pretty happy with the results.)

She’s 16 now.

She seems happy.

And she is the spitting image of her mom.

Back to the “my brain is an asshole” part.  Now I have the dilemma.  They told me I could keep in touch, but it was understood that it would go through a neutral third party.  (I still have the lawyer’s name stored upstairs too)

It has also been 16 years.

Which begs the obvious question.

Now what the fuck do I do?

That’s a serious question yo.