Lurleen was my high school sweetheart. She was an outcast and a rebel, and that was what made her so attractive. Lurleen worked on cars in her father’s garage, and dressed in faded denim and ratty flannel. She was cracking open beers in the high school parking lot when she was 15 years old, and was the only person anyone knew who could hand roll her own cigarettes. Some years later she lost her foot in a car race, and then moved back to town to open up her own cannabis dispensary. Since I was diagnosed with PTSD after leaving the Marines I had a prescription for medical marijuana. This prescription had done me very little good up to that point, because there were no nearby cannabis dispensaries. I was very excited to finally have a local cannabis shop, but I was also a little nervous about seeing Lurleen again. I would have waited until she wasn’t there but it seemed like she never left the cannabis dispensary. Finally I girded myself mentally and went in to say hi, and to acquire some much-needed cannabis edibles. Lurleen looked amazing as she welcomed me to her cannabis dispensary and I realized she did not remember me at all. I selected the cannabis edibles I needed, gave her my medical marijuana prescription card, and paid. At no point did she recognize my face or my name, which on one hand hurts my feelings but on the other hand makes a trip to the cannabis dispensary a lot less stressful. I wonder if she will ever remember?