In my arms, in my life, on my bed, and on my cock.
I miss her positive energy, and I miss her bubbly, unstoppable love of life. I miss her spirit, and I miss her support.
I miss her!
After a long walk around the lake, I finally head upstairs. As I reach my main desk, where I’ve run things for so long, I look down. I decide it’s time to make a few changes, and time to take my foot off the gas.
I am not in the right head space to act as CEO of three companies in transition and to also run the forming internationalconglomerate.
Keeping up is becoming impossible, and it will only get worse.
I Zoom with Troy and Rhett an hour later, and they look at me with my stubble and messy hair. I tell them I need to pull back, and I do not fluff my words.
They oddly agree, and fast. They also say it’s likely healthy.
They ask me to come to NYC to discuss details, and I agree. They then ask me about Sam.
Reluctantly, I explain Samantha and I had become a couple. And that after Tokyo, and when we’d signed the final Japanese agreements, we were on fire, and it was perfect.
My friends are happy for me, and they both agree Samantha is strong enough to control me. I tell them where they can stick their non-business related advice, and as they laugh, I loosen up.
They explain they can tell I’m in a hole, and they likely know it’s not pure exhaustion. They ask about us, and I decide to explain the rest. “I’m not going to lie,” I say, “it’s not exactly good.”
“Details,” Rhett demands, crossing his arms.
“Look, it’s complicated,” I say with a scowl and standing. The sons of bitches look at me, and their laser eyes bore through the Zoom call. “Okay, I messed up,” I say, coming clean.
There is a long silence.
“Well, if you know you did, have you talked to her?” Troy asks, sounding overly mature.
“No,” I say, clicking my neck. “But I have started to message her, and I’ve left voice messages for the last few days.”
I have, and it’s starting to become stalker-ish.
“How many?” Rhett asks as if he’s some NYPD investigator.
“A fucking lot,” I say. “And for the last two days. She won’t pick up, and she won’t talk to me.”
Troy shakes his head, and Rhett sighs. “And just when it looked like you’d gotten your shit together,” Rhett says flatly.
“Screw you,” I say as Rhett smiles.
“Look, just get down here. Tomorrow at three?” Troy asks, pulling at his tie.
I look at my leather diary, and Rhett cuts in, fast, “Your moping day can handle that. Stop screwing around. Three!”
“Anything else?” I ask, brow up and not liking the goofy bullying.
My two friends look at me, and they have nothing.
“Just take it easy, buddy,” Rhett says, giving me a look. “We got your back.”
“And bring your sorry arse down!” Troy says.
I give them the bird, and as always, they return it. It’s nice to know I have support, and deep down, I know they have my back.
The next morning,I shave for the first time since the chaos, and I pull on a navy suit. It’s the first time I’ve worn a suit since she left. As I do, I miss her bad, and part of me feels like I’m dead inside.
