Michael
"She's back?!" Nate asked surprised.
"Yea." I replied
"Did you guys talk?"Nate asked
" If you consider her constantly burning me with words as talking." I said sadly.
"Oh boy." Nate said regrettably. "You know, maybe she's still just bitter. Or maybe her seeing you when she was not ready just brought back the ugly memory, and she just said that to hurt you as much as you did her."
"But she loved me, right?" I asked "feelings don't just leave like that, do they?"
"I don't know man. People are different." He said pitifully.
"But she did have the ring." I retorted
"The one you gave her in Paris?" He asked
"Yeah" I said rubbing the back of my neck.
"That's good news. Maybe she is still holding on but is just hurt." He offered hopefully.
"Not exactly." I said
"What do you mean not exactly?" He asked confused.
"She...she got another ring." I explained
"Another ring?" Nate asked incredulously. "Mike people get a lot of rings as accessories these days a ring could..." then realization dawn on him. "Shit!! It's another man's." He exclaimed his eyes wide.
I bowed my head in defeat.
"I'm really sorry man." He said.
"I don't know what to do from here. I had prayed so hard, wishing I could get her back and now she's back, she had to get with another man." I replied in desperation.
"It'll be fine man. Maybe you both just need some time, some space to heal from your wounds." Nate placated
"But we've been separated for over 3years plus now- no calls, no text, no emails no contact. Was that not enough?" I asked.
"Maybe the process is longer for her. Just respect that. Plus you don't want to get into trouble with her new man." He reasoned.
"I could careless about him. And honestly between us. I'm not sure I can stay away from her now that I found her." I replied stubbornly.
"don't do anything crazy. You just got out of some shit I don't want us to go back to." He said.
"I know." I snapped. "I'm not going to harass her or anything." I grumbled. I know he was coming from a good side and just wanted my wellbeing.
In truth I've been shit for the past 2 and a half years. Drinking to stupor, getting into fights, starving myself, missing meetings and worst was I fell into drugs. Her leaving me was the most devastating experience I had ever had. I had spent a better part of those years in rehab.
The first year was chaotic: I had started by loosing my appetite and had lost interest in a lot of things. Eveything felt vague and pointless. I had taken on more work, closed at late hours just to avoid the solitude that brezzed through my house. Many evenings i had return hoping to see her pulling out stuff for dinner from the fridge, dressed in one of my shirts but all I got was Millie's happy barks when I returned- I couldn't recall the number of nights I had spent at the office just to avoid the emptiness of my house. Even Millie had been less happy these days- always sniffing around Aisha's favorite rug with a whine. I guess she missed her as much as I did. She even stopped running to the door to receive me when she heard the door open. I guess she had picked on that Aisha wasn't returning when she couldn't get her scent on me anymore.
At nights she had whine and lay on Aisha's side of the bed- trying to seek some comfort I guess but then it never really mattered to me.
Her laughter and her sweet smile tormented me in my dreams most nights. I felt like I was loosing my head and bearly caught sleep for days unending. There are time when I had rush from work to get kiwi, coffee, lemon and strawberry flavoured ice creams to keep at home since they were her favorites only to reach home and remember she wasn't there. I wrote letters, emails, phone calls but none was ever returned. Her friends denied having contact with me what-so- ever and finally lost track of them when they both moved after college.
Then came the drinking and partying. I couldn't count the number of times when Lyra or my mom had caught me wasted or carried me from the club or bar to my condo after having a reckless fight or completely drunk out of my mind. Nights when I wasn't out, I would sit before a large portrait of hers that I had made before she left which was in my now abandoned office at home, drinking and talking to the portrait while scrolling through her pictures in my phone. It wasn't long before I started making the headlines of newspapers and magazines: the Donovan Inc heir looses his mind after his ex-girlfriend dumps him.
Gradually, we started loosing clients, and some of our investors and other shareholders threatened to pull out. I wasn't very efficient anymore and business started experiencing some lagging due to my tardiness to work- trying to recover from my hangovers from the previous nights, missing meetings, miscalculating budgets, and a lot more.
I thought my father had had it when he barged into one of the parties I was at, to pick me up instead of my mom or sister and as per usual, I was completely drunk off my face. He matched up to me and pulled me up by the collar of my shirt. I tried resisting till he punched me in the face and I tumbled over the people behind me, too wasted to retaliate. I heard a couple of people gasp and some girls scream at the scene as people gathered around us watching curiously and whispering to each other. He just cussed angrily at me, and pulled me from the crowd by my collar. I heard him mutter under his breathe but couldn't quite catch or comprehend anything due to my drink filled brain. That was the first time my father had ever raised his hand on any of his kids- me in particular. But I guess I had stretched his perseverance to its limit.
The parties had dweedled down from everyday to thrice a week. I guess his punch was a sort of reset button ... till paranoia and anguish set in. My father had partially relieved me of the duties of the CEO till i had gotten over my rebellious phase. He had asked me to get over my depression from the heartbreak but that was easier said than done. I had even started resorting to self harm to numb the pain. Lyra and mom had walked on me many times either watching myself bleed out after a cut or stare out into space from the balcony in my house as though I was about ready to jump off of it. I didn't know where I was anymore. I felt completely lost and something dark seem to swallow me from the inside out. I felt completely desolate and useless. I had lost will and interest in every and anything and found myself having sombre thoughts whenever I was alone. My family had feared I was suicidal and decided on taking turns to watch me at home and denied me leaving home since I refused seeing a counsellor. They had forcefully moved me out of my condo into the family mansion so as to keep a closer eye on me, but I had return there from time to time just to have a quiet and private space. I wasn't suicidal, just depressed but my family seem to refuse hearing anything else from me if I didn't speak to a psyche about my problems.
One day while driving, I had passed by some crack heads around a dark corner. I had no idea what got into me but I decided to pullover and walked up to them. The smoke from whatever they were smoking seemed to mesmerize me; doing some sort of hypnotic dance as it floated into the air. I had drawn closer and asked them for one - initially thinking it was just a cigarette then. One pull from the blunt turned into the second then I spent over 30minutes talking about God knows what with them. It felt like speaking gibberish all the while it seem to make so much sense in my head. And just like that, I had indulged into drugs. The blunt seem to make me forget all about my pain and the occasional whispering I heard in my mind when I was alone. There were days where I had sneak out of home just to grab some weed and get off on it. Then I sought out for something stronger: getting off of it each time. The familiar elation I felt began to become an everyday habit till my family came in looking for me till they met me semi-passed out in the bathtub filled with water while fully clothed. A syringe and powder was carelessly thrown on the top of the cabinet. That's when my father set every consideration aside and pulled my ass to rehab. Where I had spent over a year and some months.
I just left and was back into business with a healthier mind and ready to hold the reins of my life once again. My father had assigned me to other activities so as to get me engaged into minor things before picking up pace once again. I was fine with it. I trust I will regain my position in no time and that was the case - 6 months later, after proving myself to my father. He still controlled somethings but I was glad I was back to my office and to my life. I had even regained contact with some of my lost friends and lived more cautiously and reasonably. All seemed perfect, and seemed to be moving on well, till our encounter yesterday which shook my entire foundation about moving on.