It's been six months with no updates about Gray, and he is doing his best to make me give up.
I was suffering from depression, which was bound to happen. I locked myself in my room and stopped going anywhere, even to the company. I didn't let anyone except Thomas in, and I would spend most of my day in the closet.
Food would be untouched most of the time, and the consumption of alcohol was higher. Most of my weekends were spent in the hospital getting drips. I ended up losing weight. Everyone is doing their best to divert me and try to bring me back, to how I was. I am not letting them win. By this time, they should have convinced their thick heads that nothing was going to work on me. I am liking my fucking suffering, and I am liking my agony. Strangely, it is keeping me sane.
Sleeping pills had become my sleeping partner. Whenever I was staring at the pill, I would always think of gulping all the pills at once and putting an end to everything. I control my thoughts like I always would. I don't want to. I want him, and someday I was going to get him. By swearing those, I would push the excessive pills back into the bottle.
Locking in the room and staring nowhere was a habit that I have adopted in recent months. Rewinding my memories of Gray. His smile, his innocent look, his bloody irritation, and his anger are on the verge of strangling me at any time. A chuckle escaped when I remembered his angry face. I don't know how many times he thought of chopping me to death.
My arousal around him was different, totally different. When I was playing around, I would rarely go back to the same guy except Ed. But with Gray, it was different. Every time I was with him, it felt like the first time, and I was carving for more and more. I never felt enough of him, not even a day. My carving was the same and even more every fucking day. That's totally not normal. What the hell was fucking wrong with me? Even now, I was hard like a rock. Dam.
I never gave him emotional support, always trying to solve everything by throwing money at him and pushing him unnecessarily. At some point, I felt resentment toward him, and that led to diversion. I didn't accept him the way he was or support him the way he wanted. All the way, I concentrated on how and what I wanted in his life, not vice versa.
There is always a choice that we make, and that choice decides everything. I could have dealt with him any other way; I could have at least tried, but I was blindfolded by my own achievements and praises. Did he ever feel jealous of me, at least once? He may have been jealous in the past when his fucking dad was giving preference to me, but with my achievement, I don't think he was jealous.
I was not worthy of having him in my life. I am the shittiest person he ever met, for sure, and a cold-hearted bastard. I made him give in to me at every stage, and he finally gave up on me and ghosted me.
Here I am lying in the middle of the night on the cold floor, watching the sealing and tears that have become my permanent solitude.
The next day, when I woke up, I was at the hospital, and beside me, Thomas was sitting with a concerned face. I tried to sit down, but he was immediately beside me, and yeah, I turned fragile.
"You are getting worse." An ironic chuckle escaped from me. "And I deserve every ounce of it." "I never saw this side of you, not even when your mom was in a coma." "I can only conclude Gray meant more than anything to me. And flash news: he is no more in my life, and if I am not wrong, he is never going to come back, nor are we going to find him." "Don't lose hope." "He is making me give up." "The question is, are you going to give up?" "What do you think?" "I am not defending whatever you have done, but don't give up. Fight till you can." "Is it worth it?" "If Grayson is worth it?" "He is, and I am realizing when it's too late." "At least somewhere he is still alive. Is it not worth fighting for? Won't you hold yourself until that day? Are you going to give up without a fight? I never thought my upbringing was this pathetic. Always end up in a hospital bed. Common people take the blame and digest everything. For every act, consequences are inevitable, and it's your time to face them. Face like a man and don't think of giving up. Fight for what you want until you get it." Thomas always made sense and I was digesting his every word.
"We didn't find any clue, and it's been fucking more than six months." "As I said, we will. We need your support too, not your emotional baggage. Suck it whatever you are going through and get therapy. I have already fixed the appointment, and I am making sure you are attending the session without fail. I am going to accompany you." "I like to have an option." "It's been more than six months, and what option are you talking about? Locking up and suffering." "Trust me, I feel so much better." "Yeah, that's called self-harming, and I left you. Not anymore. You are attending sessions with me, and that's it. Don't think of any argument, as you know that in front of me, it's vain. Take rest." By nodding my head, I was trying. Medicines started to react, but sleep has its own thoughts. I ended up watching the sealing the whole night.
"I can't believe you are helping him with Gray's matter." Josh was still in the hospital, and I was checking some files in my cabin. Damn, everything was sucking my blood, including my DNA. "I would always help him, and you know that." "Dad, I am your son." "Josh too; don't forget that. Ed, you knew from the beginning; you always knew. Both are bloody idiots to admit, and you couldn't expect better results." "You know right from how many years I was liking Josh." "Does it matter? What matters is whether the feeling was reciprocated or not. If not, you could always move on, not be glued where your feelings are not valued." "It's hard; you know better." "Don't compare yourself with me. I had my fullest time with your mom, and I have no regrets. What about you? You are wasting your time, and this is not the first time I have told you so many times. You not only stuck but also created a mess. What were you bloody thinking?" "I want Josh, and I wanted to do everything to get him." "Right, congratulations! Now you are engaged. I hope it's worth it and you are enjoying being his fiancée." "Thanks for the sarcastic comment. I wonder whether you are my real father or not." "Trust me, I have my doubts on that." "Dad." "What do you want, Ed? What are you expecting from me? Whatever you are expecting, you know what you are going to hear and which side I am going to take. You both are my sons. You are biological, and he is God-given; I am not going to betray either of you. I know him better than you do, and at this time, I can't leave him as he is. He needs everyone. If you could stay with him as a support that would be better but, please don't create any problems. We have so much on our plates."
Ed stormed out of my cabin, and I forgot to add a few more points. I couldn't control either of them; they were stubborn, and they always ended up messing everything up. As a result, both are suffering. Karma is a b*tch. By nodding my head once again my attention was on the file.
Thomas forced me to get therapy sessions. For every session, I was forced to attend, accompanied by Thomas. I didn't want anyone to accompany me other than him.
I have already gone through a few sessions. The same shitty questions were asked by twisting, and I was fed up answering them. So many times, I suppressed my yawn and also from bursting. I know the doctor was doing his best, and I am not finding any fucking results. That's the fucking problem over here. This bastard even stopped me from taking sleeping pills, which was fucking my savior. I would get some sleep, but now I couldn't get any. He was worried I might overdose. I thought I never did, and who the fuck will spill the beans in the session? So, I did it, and now I am paying for it by being sleep-deprived.
In the next session, I became very alert about what to say and what not to say, especially in front of my psychiatrist. His calm nature of spilling things out of me was really scary. I never thought that by scratching something on the notepad, nodding their heads, and twistingly asking, they could spill anything.
After a few sessions, I was done because it was getting deeper, and I didn't want to go there. I was okay with sharing every detail of my family and the accident, but not anything about Gray. I canceled a few sessions by giving a lame reason, and Thomas bought my reason only for a few sessions. After that, he didn't let me cancel any. He knew why I was doing that.
Therapy sessions became intense. Everything was about Gray from Day 1, and I felt like I was on a roller coaster. Whenever I would enter the cabin for sessions, my eyes would always be stuck on my watch, waiting to get the hell out of there. But everything changed in that particular session.
Usually, I would take the chair in front of the doctor and answer his questions. But from that day on, I started using the couch. By closing my eyes, taking long breaths, rewinding my mind, and enjoying the same, I would always answer his question.
Memories of Gray. Memories of us.
I was hesitant at the beginning to talk about him, but I began to enjoy the session. In between us, there were so many emotions, and I enjoyed every emotion. I felt somehow connected to him. I started exploding whatever I had suppressed, layer by layer. I didn't hide anything strangely; I didn't want to.
At the end of the session, tears were inevitable, and even so, I didn't hide them. I let my emotions flow, and at the end of every session, I felt less weight on my chest.
I could only conclude one thing: I needed this.
I needed to know what I wanted. I needed to know why I felt so attached and detached at the same time. I needed to know why I didn't let go of things when I left. I needed to know why I was always desperate to come back. I needed to know why everything felt so right and wrong at the same time. I needed to know where I went wrong. I needed to know why I went nearly mad when he completely disappeared from my life. I needed answers for everything, and that's it. This therapy slapped me with it.
As I started opening my layers of emotions, I felt more depressed. After reaching home, I would always face the window, watching nothing. The ache and the tears have become co-partners.
It's been six months of therapy, and after pouring so many things, I have become somewhat stable.
One year after Gray's disappearance, there is still no clue about him. I have not stopped searching for him, and I am not going to. I will keep this search going no matter how many years it takes, and I am going to find him someday.
I was stable after a few more sessions and started going to the company. Thomas was telling me to take a rest but locking myself up had to come to an end. I need to be active, even more than before, so I can try to find him sooner. I want to use every means and unturn every stone to find him.
I started pouring my frustration into running the company, and the result was good—the company was developing even more. I was eating for sake, being active for sake, and doing everything for sake. I need to be alive; that's it, I know, and I am doing everything for it. Going to the company, coming back, and again consuming myself with office work has become my routine. At the end of the day, no good news made my day.
How much my company made in profit was worthless. My picture was on the cover page of every magazine, and my interviews in the business channels were useless. I have won many awards. Best Businessman of the Year, I still felt pointless. My power was greater, and the attention I was getting was immense, and it felt meaningless. Everything would be meaningful if only one person were beside me. Till then, my life is hopeless and helpless.
After winning Businessman of the Year, my family and Thomas arranged a party to celebrate this shitty, worthless award, and my protest didn't stop them. I was in no mood for any argument, so I let them do whatever they fucking wanted.
It's going to be two years, and still, nothing from anyone was making me worry like anything.
I was at the bar counter sipping the drinks and thinking about the same when Mateo joined me. I gave a brief glance to him. I need a dam break from shitty flings, for fuck's sake. I avoided him like a plague; how the hell he ended up in my own party was beyond me. Who the fuck invited him? That fucking bastard Ed for sure knows how to get on my nerves.
"Congratulations Josh." He clicked his glass into mine. "Thank you." "You are avoiding me successfully." "Thank God you are aware of it." "May I ask why? Because you got engaged." "It was just fucking. How many more times do I have to clear myself?" "Yeah, I know that, and for that too, you are avoiding." For fuck's sake, I am really not in the mood to give any fucking clarification over here. "Mateo, forget it, ok? Don't even try from now on. We won't be fucking again, and I am done. Am I clear?" "But?" "Don't pour anything on me. Trust me, I am not worth it. Seriously, move on, ok? I am dealing with one already, and I don't want any additions to that. I need a dam break from heartbroken guys." "What are you talking about? I am confused." "Why do you need an explanation for anything?" "Curiosity." "You don't need to be curious about my business. That's what I am trying to explain to you. There are so many around you; please open your eyes and see around you. I am not the one, and don't waste your time on me." "You are cruel and heartless." "You need to be setting your head straight. There are a few things you should accept and move on from. That's friendly advice, and please do consider it for your own good. I can't be clearer than this, and I won't deal with you with patience next time. Next time, your approach should be only related to business and nothing else, and every word I fucking mean it."
By saying that, I busted out of that place, and I saw Ed, who was wearing a smirk on his face. His fucking ways of getting back to me. Geez.