I am about to tell him I’m a fully grown man, and that I don’t need life advice when I catch myself.
Maybe I do, and maybe he is right.
Maybe, also, I am too strong-willed, too emotionally undeveloped, and perhaps I was too young. Too young to have succeeded so fast in the world of media and entertainment.
Maybe now I need to spend time on me.
To mature, to learn, and to heal.
As we finish and I thank him, William pauses at the chateau’s front steps, outside. I look down at him and read his eyes. “Anything, else, William?”
“May I say one last thing, Sir?” he asks, as if nervous.
“Of course, please.”
William adjusts his tweed jacket. I know it’s coming, and I inhale.
“She was a good woman, Harrison, and I doubt you will find better. Believe me. After losing my wife Jane in the UK, I spent adecade trying. We are not getting any younger, son, and our numbers are dwindling.”
He is not wrong, and again, it feels good to be called son. Even at my age.
“You can build a tribe,” William says.
I rest my leather shoe on the step, look over the lake, and listen.
“I watched your parents do it, Harry. They built a family here. Good things can come from love. You too can build a family. It just requires focus. You can also, perhaps, do it with her.”
We share a look, and William smiles. He then walks off to attend to his duties.
Walking inside, I head to the large grand hall. Inside, I pass the newspapers, my diary, and my notes. I stop and look out the window, deep in thought.
I am proud of myself for breaking the code and conquering the media and entertainment world. Heck, I’d done what a hundred men failed to do. Maybe a thousand. I’d also outworked everyone I can think of.
There is just one thing that worries me.
As I worked like a complete maniac and sacrificed so much, and as I put my head down for all those years, creating, building, and conquering new areas of entertainment, had I, at the same time, failed? Failed to develop as a real human?
Had I also done this?
Let the one person go, who wanted me for me and not for my money? My name? My legacy?
Or is it even more screwed up than that?
Had I really chased away the one person in the world who loved me?
As I tryto work it all out, try to keep up with the duties of the new entertainment and media conglomerate, and attempt to run my three older companies as CEO, I start to implode even more. I then start to neglect my duties.
I am not coping, and I’ve lost my spark. I fail to return calls and even simple emails. I also fail to watch movies we have invested in that need my feedback. To also read movie scripts and view huge, proposed media campaigns.
The companies start to falter at the top, and several senior VPs sound frustrated.
I find myself walking on the estate, alone, and at times for hours on end. I am slowly becoming a recluse, then I fear I will end up with a long beard and long fingernails.
I realize Samantha was likely right. That time is an illusion, and thus, time can be cheated. That it can also be manipulated.
That amazing moments can be drafted, drawn out and slowed, whereas painful times can be contained and shortened with focus.
I think about Samantha more, and daily. That’s a lie. I think about her hourly, and I miss her spirit. I miss her.
