It's Still There ✔️

Prologue

Where do I begin?

This anecdote is one that in the end will make you hate me even more. 

I won’t ask for pity, nor will I beg for your forgiveness. I understand the extent of what I did those years ago. When I made the worst mistake of my life that ultimately left me as a lonely bachelor who to this day refuses to date.

When I was young, my mother always told me that compassion is the best gift a person can get. I believed her. And for the longest time, I treated compassion as gold. A fragile, intangible item that at any moment I can lose. 

But as a child grows, their compassion and innocence is lost. And thus I found a new item that was more valuable. More valuable than gold, diamonds, and all the riches in the world.

Love.

And in the span of two months, I lost that love. And to this day, I’ve never experienced that kind of affection.

I took it for granted. And I will never forgive myself.

I got out of work. It was a standard Friday night. For the past 25 years, I’ve had my own business. I’ve acquired riches and mansions and luxury cars. But like I said, I never forgave myself for losing love. Which means that a hole in my heart causes the empty feeling to never leave.

It was dawn, and I drove away from the hustle and bustle of the inner city and made my way to the luxury hills that contained larger homes. My home was located in a far secluded area. And it’s how I like it. I had a big house, just for myself. Sounds like a dream, but at my 45-year age, it’s nothing more than living in purgatory.

I began my basic tasks of showering, then settling into my office to finish some last minute documents. I prefer to occupy my time as much as I can to forget the fact that once I leave this office, I’ll be met with nothing but emptiness. 

I sat at my indoor bar. The wall displayed any kind of alcohol that one can think of. Liquor that can get you killed, arrested, or both. Bottles made of crystals encrusted in blood diamonds. Wine that has been aging since the reign of Ferdinand and Isabella of Spain. 

I took a sip out of a simple whiskey. I needed to go lightly today. After closing such a huge deal today, I drank a little to keep my composure and remember that the deal still wasn’t enough.

Nothing ever was.

I drank three shots. Three only. I sat at my bar, wishing that someone would come down the grand stairs and welcome me home and kiss me. But nothing happened. 

I got up from my seat and moved to the study near my room. I entered, but the drink made me tipsy. I stumbled, making sure to grab onto the walls like they were a loved one taking me home. 

I burst into the room and looked around. I chuckled. Seriously? I have millions, I own islands, I can literally buy people. And I still feel miserable. But it’s my fault. I acknowledge that. You too shall see soon what is the cause of my precarious mindset. And how stupid I was. The moment when not only did I lose the last amount of compassion, but all my love that I had to give. Stupid!

I walked to the bookshelf which contained law books and classical books that I’ve never read. I picked up one of the books. ‘The Song of Achilles.’ I laughed. Why do I even bother buying books. I threw the book. Not to be disrespectful. I’m sure that book is amazing. But I can’t handle that I was surrounded by all these materialistic items that served absolutely no purpose to me.

My anger that raged in me was overtaking me. How could I have been so ignorant? So careless? My actions are the results of my deeds. And here I am today, living them.

I slid my hand onto the shelf and knocked down all the books. Every thick book was dropped onto the floor. It wasn’t enough. I continued with the next shelf. And the next. Pretty soon, every shelf in my room was trashed. The north and southern walls were left barren with nothing on them. Books littered the floor, some broken statues littered the floor too. But I still needed to do more. 

I picked up a wooden chair and smashed it on the bask. Pieces of wood flew everywhere in every direction. I think I got some splinters, but I allowed the pain to deal a large amount of damage on me. 

I picked up the whiskey on the table that I had just in case and drank straight from the bottle. I chugged it like it was water. 

My eyes saw nothing but red. In a fit of rage, I trashed the whole office. Desks were knocked, windows were shattered, plants were torn, and carpets were soiled with debris.

After I was done, I sat on the floor, crying my eyes out. I sobbed for a while until I looked to the right of me.

There it was, layed out open. The newspaper that forever changed my life. The newspaper was old and brittle. It was stuffed in a book, allowing its decay to slow. I reached over and grabbed the newspaper. I held it like it was a treasure. I read the headline and then the description. 

And I lost it. I cried and cried nonstop. I had chugged the entire bottle of whiskey in one sitting. Paper in hand, I walked, more like stumbled, down the stairs. I didn’t care about my safety. If I died today, I died. I wished I would suffer a painful death. I deserve to be tortured in the worst way possible. I deserve to not die instantly. Maybe I could get into a car crash and feel the pain of my life going away. Or I could cut my limbs off and feel it all.

Who am I kidding? That’ll never amount to what I made him feel.

I walked until I reached outside my home. It was the backyard, which overlooked the city. I stood near the edge, which had railing to keep you from falling. I looked over, holding the newspaper in my hands.

I looked over it, reading every line and sentence with precision. I can’t believe I did this. I can’t believe that my actions led to this which led me to where I was now.

Now you’re really wondering what I did. I can’t say it. I just feel too much of a burden to even mention it. Guilt. Humiliation. You would probably want to stone me to death. And I don’t oppose it.

“I’m so sorry.” I said, looking up to the skies. I didn’t believe in heaven, nor hell, or even God in general. My hope and faith was lost as I grew and remembered that if God truly was with me, he wouldn’t have allowed him to be taken away from me.

But I still like to hold onto the small idea that maybe he’s up there watching down on me. That he’s looking after me, making sure that I still have my life in check. I wish he was here now. Would’ve he been proud of what I’ve accomplished? Proud of the money I have? The riches that cover this hill that I reside on? Or would he have been disappointed at the fact that I have no one to share it with. That even though I have all this, I still remain alone.

No doubt he’s disappointed in me. That’s all I ever did to him. 

“I deserve everything bad.” I said. I looked upon the setting sun, as another day was ready to pass. 10,585 days, at least. That’s how many days it’s been since I last saw him.  

It feels like it was an eternity when he left, but yesterday when I met him.

Now you’re definitely wondering what I did. It’s nothing short of betrayal.

Enough beating around the bush. 

Here’s the story of when I found love. Only to lose it in the blink of an eye.

Here’s my story. One that will forever be burdened by me only.