Drowning in the Misery; No Thoughts of Self-Preservation

The world was over, yet somehow the sun was still gently filtering through my open window. I could hear cars passing by and the sounds of children playing outside in the summer air; what is wrong with these people?
How can there still be laughter and happiness in a world that doesn’t revolve around her? How can there still be a reason for getting off this couch and starting a new day, when she won’t be there to share it with?

My back was aching but I didn’t bother moving. I had no intentions of moving, ever. My throat was swollen and soar, my eyes felt dry; like they’d been closed forever. I was exhausted even though judging by the amount of sun in the room it was well into the day; meaning I had slept for a long, long time.
Not long enough though.

Anything, any price in the world to go back to this time yesterday. To pull out the ring I had had in my room for years and wait with it by the front door before she got home; read her the inscription I had engraved so long ago. Vous avez toujours été mon amour ; avec cet anneau vous êtes ma vie. To do all the things I should have done a hundred times - no, a thousand times over - to make her stay; any price.

And then the sound again; the sound that had woken me from sleep, forcing me into this day. I could hear someone pounding at the door, but there was no reason to answer it; it wasn’t her.
After another round of knocking, the sound of a key moving into the lock. The door swung wide and I heard a voice call for me; but I continued on as I was, lifeless.

“Jesus Christ, Flower! What the hell happened to you?” I didn’t need to look up to know who was here; not that I cared. Staal moved over into my line of sight, flanked by Sidney, Max and Geno.

“Flower? Man… what happened? Where‘s Vero?” Sidney walked cautiously towards me, jumping back as my body cringed. The sound of her name ripped through me with enough force that it threatened to tear me apart.

“Don’t… don’t say her name… please.” I forced out through my lips, lowering my eyes away from his.

“Where is she Flower?” Sidney dared to ask again, timidly approaching the couch.

“Gone.” I croaked out before finally moving my body for the first time; just enough to cover my face with my hands. “Just go guys… I can’t do this… I need to be alone.”

“No, what you need it to get up and come with us. Mario said we needed to come find you, that you have to make a statement… he said you could do it at the same press conference as Max and Geno.”

I allowed my hands to flop from my face. “What are you talking about?”

“Mario said you guys broke up… I guess Ver- she must have told him.” Max corrected himself quietly from the side. “Geno and I had an… incident, that we need to discuss and Mario needs you to make a statement; or at least be present.”

I shook my head and rolled over until my face was buried in the couch. She had called Mario; this piece of information elated me, she was still out there somewhere. It shouldn’t have mattered, she didn’t want me anymore; but it still did, I knew it always would. “I can’t.” I said finally, pushing my face away from the couch enough that they could hear my clearly.

“Alright man, are you ok here? We’ll be back after… I can stay if you want…” Sidney said quietly from behind me. I shook my head before falling back into my comma like state.
I heard the boys move back into the entrance way; breaking out into hushed conversation.

“What the hell is wrong with him?” Max asked in a worried voice.

“Max, he just lost the love of his life. They were together for like… ever. He’s upset! Wouldn’t you be?” Sidney fired back, his empathy making him able to better understand my situation than Max, who replied:

“Nope, and I think he’s just lost his mind … no one could get that upset over a chick.”

Sidney gave a disgruntled sigh and I heard Jordan, “We’ll come back and check on him after, maybe try and take him out tonight…”

“Oh he’s coming out tonight! I’ve never been able to pick up chicks with Flower… tonight’s gonna be great!” Max laughed before I heard the door close and the house fell back into a defining silence.

I rolled over to allow myself more room to breath. As soon as my eyes saw the picture above the mantel, I wanted to turn away but I couldn’t. She use to scrunch her nose up when she was thinking hard; she use to bit her lip when she was trying to be seductive, trying to get her way. She use to sing to herself when she cleaned the house; and laughed at me when I tried to help.
She was perfect; the right amount of beauty, poise, attitude and stubbornness. She had a quiet grace and calming presence; but she was gone now, and none of it counted for anything.

I had the fleeting thought that I should go upstairs, stretch out my soar muscles on the large soft bed that was waiting, empty; but I knew I couldn’t go up there. There was too much of her up there, too many memories…

I threw my arm over my face and allowed the misery to take me away again; as I prayed that the world would just leave me here to mourn, alone.

Cleaning up the Mess. And There's a Lot of Mess.

Aberleigh-

I sat at my desk staring at a blank screen. How do you sum up 10 years that ended in a just a few simple words, that won't have the speaker collapsing in tears? But this was my job. As a PR rep, this is what I did. I helped clean up the messes that others get themselves into.

"Abbs are you coming for lunch?" I looked up from my screen to see my bestfriend and coworker Danielle leaning halfway into my office.

"Thanks, Dani, but I have to get this done. Maybe tomorrow?" She shrugged knowing as well as I did that I wouldn't go out tomorrow either. "How about a drink tonight?" We smiled together and agreed to meet for drinks directly after work.

My sight went back to my screen as I tried to write again. Finally I started typing. The one released strictly from the team was easy. Impersonal.

The Penguins Association asks the media and fans to please respect the privacy of Marc-Andre Fleury as he goes through this personal struggle. Thank you.

I pondered the need for a personal statement by Marc-Andre. People were peering into his life, that's not right. I mean, if I broke up with my boyfriend of 10 years I'd just want to be left alone. I jumped slightly at a loud knock on my door.

"Oh, Mr. Lemieux I didn't see you there!" I exclaimed trying to quickly straighten up my desk so it looked some what presentable.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Micheals. I know you're busy. I just wanted to see how the press release was coming. Short and sweet, right?"

"One sentence, Mr. Lemieux. Just asking for privacy." He nodded in approval, causing me to smile slightly.

"Excellent. Have it sent to Ray and call in the vultures for 5 this evening." I nodded and picked up my phone to do just as he asked. Looks like drinks were going to be late this evening. "Mr. Lemieux," he stopped pausing almost looking curious as to what I could say. "I don't think we should require Marc to make a statement. I'm sure this is hard enough already. Perhaps just presence would suffice?"

"Of course. I have some of the guys going to get him as we speak." He nodded turning and leaving the room.

A few hours later and I was just gathering up my papers for the end of the day and to get ready for the press conference in half an hour. I turned to check my email and saw an urgent "DEAL WITH ME" email just popped up. I swiftly opened it and groaned as I saw that Max Talbot and Evgeni Malkin had gotten into an altercation with... What?? MMA fighters? Oh shit... It was going to be a long night.I whipped out my phone and swiftly dialed Dani's number. Ugh voice mail!

"Danielle, it's me. I'm going to have to postpone drinks. I've got a major problem to deal with. Call me later." I sighed ignoring my stomach growling as I left my office for the press conference, knowing full well I'd be back to deal with the rest of this mess.

The End is the Beginning is the End

I had waited too long; and now my chance was gone.

I watched her pack her bag quickly but silently as I stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame; unable to move to stop her. She wasn't angry, she wasn't ranting and raving or, throwing a fit like girls did in the movies. She didn't grab the picture of us - during our last vacation - off the night stand and throw it; she didn't tell me that she hated me. She hadn't even told me it was over yet.
Of course she didn't have to; it was etched clearly in every fluid motion of her body as she continued to patiently remove clothing from different parts of the room.
Every now and then she would stop - hands on her hips - and let out a sigh. I thought now, now's the time she's going to explode; but she never did.
"Veronique..." I mumbled like an idiot, still holding onto the door frame for support. She turned quickly then, the first sign of emotion finally boiling up in her as she held up her finger; signally for me to shut up.
I adverted my gaze from her icy look, instead turning my face to the wall across from her. My entire life in pictures.
Dating back from infancy to my Stanley Cup win; Vero splashed in almost all of them; smiling, happy, beside me.

I wasn't sure why this was happening, why now, why now? Kept repeating in my head as I stood on the threshold of our room, numb. I knew of course... you can't spend your entire life with a girl and never marry her. You can't date the same girl from almost ten years and expect her to stand by and watch her friends get married; to men they'd only known for 2 or 3.
She had asked me why, that was all. "Why don't you want to marry me?"; was the first thing out of her mouth when she arrived home, from yet another bridal shower.

I was an idiot. At least, when it came to my own life, I was an idiot. I was the go to guy, the one all the boys counted on for advice; the one they came to with their problems. I was rational, logical - everything you would want your advisor to be.
There was no one to advise me now.

She had finished packing by the time my eyes found her again. She pulled her bag off the bed, allowing it to fall with a dull thud to the floor before extending the handle and pulling it behind her. She past by me on the way out the door; I could feel the electric sparks fire through my body as that trademark intoxicating smell of vanilla filtered through my nostrils. I closed my eyes against the pain that was now expanding through my chest; forcing my body to crush in upon itself.

My footsteps fell in line behind her without my prompting; years of following the same woman will do that to you - you just know; when they walk you follow, that's how it works.
She stopped at the stairs, her tiny frame working to bring the suitcase behind her - without having it fall down and crush her. I reached out to help her, but her glare caused me to retract my hand; like a child who's felt the heat of a stove, after his mother's already warned him not to touch.
Don't touch, never touch again.

She pulled the suitcase harder, my attempt at chivalry causing her face to flood with colour, the same colour that means she's embarrassed, or surprised, or turned on. Not that the last one would ever matter again; the next man to hold my Veronique would not be me.
Somehow I ended up next to the door, I held it open as she stepped out onto the porch.
"Veronique... please." I half-sobbed, forsaking all thoughts of trying to maintain my dignity. I would grovel if need be.
She turned around without a word, giving me a small smile. "We can... you know, if you want. We can get married..." She shook her head as tears began to fall from her eyes.

"No Marc, not like this... I don't want your pity." She turned back around and continued off the porch; towards her car.

"I want to." I chased after her, "I want to marry you, Vero please." She didn't look up as she shoved her bag into the bag seat, speed-walking towards the driver's door.
She pulled it open and slammed it behind her, before backing out of the drive-way and speeding away.

I stood there in the driveway for a long time. Staring down the empty road, she has to come back...
At some point I realized that I needed to go back into my home. I walked up the walkway slowly. Pulling the door shut behind me as the silence screamed in my ears and I stumbled forward, blinded by the tears that were now falling without abandon.
This was nothing, this was a house. An empty house, full of her. Every colour, every picture, every piece of furniture was her. The place stood as a tomb for the life I once had. No, this wasn't a home; this was a grave.
Home is where the heart is, Vero is my home.
I sucked in a breath, trying to make the pain stop. Is it possible to hurt this bad? Maybe I'm in hell... I thought, then I realized I couldn't be dead.The throbbing sensation coming from my chest was telling me I was still alive.

My hands were pale and clammy as I reached for the hall-table, trying to keep myself on my feet. I stared down at the dark marble floor, the same colour as her beautiful knowing eyes; and watched as it came up the meet.