He acted as if it were a terrible thing, my meeting others and being influenced by them, forming a personality before trying to get my memories back.” He nodded slowly, confidence building. “He was wrong. I don’t know whether I knew that it would happen this way, but he was wrong. Perhaps things would be different if I hadn’t met other people, good people, and spent time with them. Perhaps if I’d gone to him a blank slate, you would be talking to a very different man. But I didn’t. Instead, I see these memories and … yes, they become a part of me. But I reject them, too. They will stay with me
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