A little history, with a good memory

Here's the thing about moving back to a place you've 'been before...People remember you, even if you don't remember them. I spent a couple if years in the town I'm currently in about the junior year of my highs school days. I had just moved from Texas, and since no place is as good as Texas, I wasn't really that crazy about it. I was a home school kid, and tested for my GED when I was 16. Sweet. When I moved to Missouri, I was gearing up for college, and found out that socially, I had to be compatible to my age group, couldn't attend college till I was 18. (insert sound effect of screeching tires) So my social project was to attend a public high school. Most home school kids would have shuddered at the thought, but I was pumped. I'm trying to keep the story from being too long, and trying not to be the girl that shares too much, so lets just say high school for me was one big party. Imagine being in high school, but never actually having to attend a class, or do homework. I realized the beauty of this at an early point in the game. You want social, I'll give you social!!!!
So fast forward about 10 years. I'm back in town. My grandparents live here, so I'm back every few years, till I get bored, and then leave again. 4 years ago, I was on one of those trips, and I was here. I was, in fact, working for the same company I am now. My brother was killed here, and I left, swearing that I would never be back, that the memories were too much, and I didn't want to see them everyday. Today, I'm here again. My grandparents won't be around forever, and they need some help with things. The town has changed enough, I can almost like it. The best part, the place that my brother was killed has been torn down, and replaced with great business for this town. I feel like its his was of making it a little better to be here. I work for the company I did before, so it's like family, only a little better this time around. OK, so finally to the damn point. I'm working this weekend, at a radio event. People walk up to me, and just start talking. I know I should know them, but it's just not there. Oh my gosh, I haven't seen you since high school ...blah blah blah. The whole time my brain is going searching files, but can not find the server. I'm gracious, "hey, how ya been, still living in the same place?" crap like that. It sounds good coming out of my mouth, but I wonder if they know I have no idea. Luckily, we're in a bar environment, so I don't think that they do. After about half a dozen people, I'm feeling a lot like a victim of a Sci FI weekend. If I did have a missing file, I just blamed on drinking too much in my time in Key West. After thinking about it too much over the next day or so, I finally figured it out. In the time I was gone from here, I buried more immediate family. I think that in those times, it's amazing how your brain can work to protect itself. I honestly think some of those memories from years with my brother, and even after that when I was dealing with another close death, I think my brain knew to hide some of those memories, that they were hurtful, and that I didn't need them at the time. It's not like a drunken night you recall a few days later when someone brings it up. It's like I'm certain I should know something about this person, like there's a history, but try as I might, I can't find it in there. I never realized this had happened until I've had to face some of the ghost that live in this town. Somehow, their memories are better than mine.
Disclaimer : I'm not crazy, though it sounds a lot like it.