That’s not quite true. In one playthrough:
But there are still moments, peaceful or melancholy private musings that I never offered Zoe. And I have them still. Mine. It feels something like a miracle.
In another:
And the scars of old hurts still linger. Before this, I’d have wanted to forget every past humiliation; each desolate night. Now they’re salvage, points of data I can use to stitch a self again.
And another:
There’s something familiar—but when I reach for it, there’s nothing. Nothing at all. I try to think back to what happened. Nothing.
The choice of memories doesn’t change the situation—how would it?—but it does alter how she experiences it. Though to your point, it’s bizarre how deleting memories also uses up space.