She swivelled the black leather chair around until we faced one another. Lexi slowly placed the draft she was reading onto the freshly polished mahogany desk. The pristine office was complemented further by the giant windows that looked on to the Empire state building. With a fridge, 50' LCD television and a mini putting green, Lexi had inherited an office of pure luxury.As she raised her eyes to meet mine, she interlocked her fingers, cleared her throat and said, "I'm sorry, what do you mean by 'you can't write'?"
"I don't know, I just haven't been able to write."
Leaning back she smiled and revealed her stained teeth probably from a life of time of smoking. Upon closer inspection I discovered they matched the colour of her blouse, dark yellow.
"I don't understand what you mean by you can't write. You're a writer, it's what you do!" stressed Lexi.
"I understand that but I haven't been able to write anything for months, I've..."
"Months? What the hell do you mean months?" Interrupted Lexi, "What about the articles you've been submitting?"
"They're from my stock,"
Confused, Lexi leaned forward.
"Stock?"
"Well, I have a bunch of articles I had written in case of emergencies so that I don't miss a deadline, backup you know?"
"So this latest piece you submitted about recovering from a break up?"
She threw the current issue with precision towards me, and it landed inches away from the table's edge.
"Well, I did write that but it was the only thing I could write about. I've been trying to think about other topics but..."
"I don't care," she interrupted again, flying her hand around.
Leaning back in her chair, she continued to stare at me,her mouth agape. A hundreds thoughts ran through my mind as I searched for something to say to break the awkward silence , and yet, my gut told me to hold off and wait for her.
Finally, having regained her composure, she leaned forward once again, "Chad, let me be frank with you. I don't give a crap about your column, it's not really my cup of tea. The readers seem to like it and that's great. When management hire me, they brought me in to turn this sinking magazine around, to make it sell like it used to, better than it used to."
Wheeling her chair back, Lexi stood up and walked around her desk as she peered down at me, "How do you expect me to do that if my writers don't write? Anyway, what is it that you need?"
I remained quiet, unsure of what to say.
"Well?" she asked again as she leaned forward.
"I think I need to take some off."
She stopped all movement for that instant before exhaling and standing upright. She looked at her feet and smiled her putrid yellow smile.
"Didn't you just take some time off, Chad?"
"Yes well, I need some more time just to clear my head."
Lexi turned her head to the left and gazed out into the main office for a moment, and then in an instant she jumped forward slamming her hands down on the arm rest on either side of me. Her face was no more than six inches away. I jolted my head back as far is it would go.
"What the fuck do you think I'm running here, Club Med? You should get your shit together and give me my articles. I don't care what you do. Smoke some weed, sleep with a hooker or tie up your girlfriend and spank her! I have enough crap on my plate and don't need to deal with this shit! I'm here to save this magazine, not hold your fucking hand while you take a piss!"
She didn't blink and her piercing stare impressed upon my soul. I caught myself holding my breath and reminded myself to breathe. She took a step back and stood upright again, and as she straightened her blouse she looked to her left again, in case someone was watching.
"You only have till tomorrow to figure out what you're going to do, or I'll replace your column with another fucking agony aunt," she turned around and began to walk around the desk towards her chair, "Lord knows people like to read about the misery of others," she reached into her purse and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, "And you can be the first person to write in complaining about being unemployed."
She slammed the door leaving me alone in the office.
I let out a big sigh of relief and collapsed in the chair. After staring at the magazine, I picked it up and started to flick through the pages.
Truth was I wasn't a fan of the publication either, but it provided me an avenue to vent and a monthly pay cheque.
As always, through flipping the magazine I found myself staring at my column and began to read the only piece that interested me in all of the pages.
The Break Up
We've all received the email which aptly illustrates that people come into our life for a reason, season or a lifetime. Nothing can be truer when it comes to relationships. We meet, date, and fall in love with that special someone. As time progresses, and feelings blossom, we dream and plan ten years in advance with excitement. Then, as we get used to one another and the 'Honeymoon phase' starts to wind down, annoyances creep in to the relationship. Traits that we once found cute, like how she snorts when she laughs or how his unibrow looks, are no longer charming. She storms out of the loo complaining about his annoying habit of squeezing the toothpaste in the middle. He's fed up with having to miss the trailers, and leaves her behind at home with her movie ticket, while she's changing her outfit again, this time to watch the shoes. The fights increase, and all of a sudden you're both staring at one another, wondering how it got so bad so fast. Then, the inevitable, painful, and always questionable breakup ensues.Once we pass that tearful crossroad where we had ti make that gut-wrenching decision, we face arguably the worst stage of the break-up; the recovery! Unfortunately, this process is unavoidable, and the only cure is time! C.S Lewis stated, 'The future is something which everyone reaches at the rate of sixty minutes an hour'. No matter what we do, there are no quick fixes to this type of recovery. Sure, we escape by indulging in vices such as smoking, drinking, drugs and rebounding into another relationship too soon, but that only delays the recovery process and could very well lead to other issues. Nevertheless, letting off some steam cam be quite therapeutic. The point is to enjoy everything in moderation while setting aside time to heal.
On the arduous journey of recovery, there are numerous speed bumps. The first step is acceptance. Accept that it's over and it's time to move on. Accept that it's not going yo be easy and you won't recover overnight. Give yourself a realistic deadline for when you'll be back to yourself and remain focused. If need be, stand up in a room full of people, introduce yourself and state that you've been dumped. You may receive peculiar glares as opposed to a round of applause, but hey, at least you just accepted it.
Alternatively you can adhere to the phrase; 'The easiest way to get over with someone, is to go under someone else!' Might I add here is a 'vacant' sign beneath me, any takers?
The Mind of Chad
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TO BE CONTINUED...
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Thank you for reading my story hope you enjoy..
l o v e l o t s________________
Special thanks and a shout out to avixuz for doing my new Cover ❣️❣️.. You can check out her story too 'Heaven with Nirvana' and 'Torn Between Professions' inspired by kathniel
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The Brokenhearted [Ongoing]
RomantizmDevastated by Sophia's betrayal, the protagonist Chad collapses in emotional and physical exhaustion, and with that, begins his ardous battle for peace and solace. Plagued by nostalgia and restless nights, Chad inadvertantly slips into a world of al...