My Lost Love

Chapter 21 - Bliss

     I thought my heart was over him.  But truth was, I was just blinded by a pretty black-Asian boy who could sing me out of my panties.  As Mario became nothing but a memory, my love for Michael continued to grow, even as I was seeing someone at the time. 

     I prayed Michael's distance would help me forget how I truly felt for him but it didn't. It was becoming more and more obvious every day that I was falling in love with him all over again.  Then one day when he kissed me goodbye before going overseas, I realized I was there.  No longer falling but had reached my destination.  I was in love.  And it hurt so badly.  Because he knew nothing of it.  I had to stay in this state of pain for a long time.  I couldn't handle possible rejection.  Because then if he knew how I felt, I was afraid he would drift away from me.  I would hope I meant more to him than that but my heart wouldn't take the risk.

     For two years almost, I held in my secret.  But eventually I could see that he knew.  My actions towards him were irrational.  One minute I was mad at him, the next I was begging for his forgiveness.  I could see he couldn't identify with me anymore.  Soon, I just became Ellie's mother.  Along with my emotions, my physical attraction grew with his changes.  I accepted everything about him.  In 1986, his skin condition was given a name.  Vitiligo.  I could only see the effect it had on his arms and torso. He would never show me his face without makeup.  It hurt but I think it was because he didn't feel the same about me anymore.  I was losing him.

~*~   

     On January 8, 1987, I received a phone call from Mario early in the morning.  Around this time, I hadn't spoken to him in over a year.  No one knew where he was.  Ellie didn't even ask about him any longer.

     "Nya?"

     "Who's this?"

     "It's Mario."  His voice was cracking.  I knew something was terribly wrong with him.  "I called to say goodbye."

     "What do you mean?"

     "I'm ready to be with God."

     As soon as I realized it was a suicide call, I began to freak out on the inside.  I thought maybe it was a joke but I couldn't think of anyone who would do that to me.  "Mario?"  The tears sat heavy in my eyes.  "Listen to me, you don't have to do this. Michella needs you."

     "She doesn't even know me.  I don't deserve to be in her life.  I'm a terrible influence.  Just please tell her that I love her.  I want her to know that I loved her.  Just tell her that her father always loved her and that I'm sorry I could never be there for her."

     All I kept thinking about was my daughter growing up without her father.  I knew that pain and I didn't want her to feel it.  "Please don't do this to her.  You know how hard it was for me to grow up without my dad there."

     "She has Michael."

     "He's not her father!" I screamed.  "He's not the one who fathered her!  It was you!  She doesn't have his eyes!  She has yours!  She's your daughter and she needs you!"

     He began sobbing in the phone.  "I'm sorry. I can't.  I can't do this."

     A loud shot popped my eardrum.  I dropped the phone, trembling, and crying hysterically.  I continued to squeal his name. 

     Where did I go wrong?  Did I deserve this?  Did my daughter?  I cupped my hand over my mouth and picked up the phone.  I dialed Michael's phone number through my tears.

     It rang and rang.  Then a voicemail came on.  I hung up and dialed a different number.  Bill answered.   "I need Michael," I croaked.  "I need Michael.  I need him.  Please," I begged while sobbing.