Memory Foam

I bought a memory foam mattress.
It’s comfortable. And I sleep well.
At least I thought I did.
Turns out, I toss and turn all night.
But the foam absorbs my memories.
So I forget the discomfort and restlessness. And the pain.
That would be fine, as long as I don’t forget anything else.
I assume that the memories aren’t totally gone.
They’re in the mattress. Deep in there.
Years of lost sleep.
Years of my life, good and bad.
Years of time with you.
Whoever you are, because for the life of me, I can’t remember who you are.