Well, as promised, here is the long awaited end to a beautiful story. I think I needed some time to heal my heart before I could travel back in time to relive it again. The pain has subsided and I'm no longer filled with grief. I may have a shred of hope left, but I'm not placing anything on it. To start this story, I'm going to go back to the ending moment because it really marks the beginning. You know what they say, you have to travel back to the past in order to move ahead.
The story begins in April 2003 (you may have to go back and read that month to refresh yourself to the prior events). Its the second last weekend of the month, Easter weekend. Tom and I had just spent, by far, the best weekend together ever. That was the weekend that Tom had opened up to me and I saw him cry for the first time. He truly exposed himself to me that weekend. It was really touching and I'll never forget it. The weekend came to an end and I had accompanied him downtown to his place. My heart started to feel heavy and I was anxious about the email that I had sent him earlier that morning about the "hug" situation. Tom turned on his computer and his msn messenger started up and told him that he had some emails. He checked them out and noticed that I had sent one. I told him to read it later when I wasn't there. He said that he would.
We only spent about an hour together because I was scheduled to work later that evening. My spirit must have known something was up because it weighed me heavily down. I almost cried for no apparent reason. I finally left Tom; I knew that he had to get cleaned up and he needed to get started on his homework. I walked to work reliving the weekend in my head feeling fulfilled and more content that I could ever possibly be.
To make a long story short, I had decided to let Tom be for the week because I knew he still had a paper due and some take home exams to work on. He also had to study for 2 exams. I was also busy with my own classes and exams. It was difficult to ignore him for the time being because I felt that I was on the cusp of something big. I couldn't keep him out of my mind. But I waited patiently because it wouldn't be long before we were both finished with school and we could hang out with each other again.
By the time the following week rolled around, I was sick of waiting. I wanted to know what Tom was up to. I logged onto msn Sunday to see what he was up to. But he was busy or away from his computer. I knew that he had an exam on Monday and then again on Wednesday. All I wanted was to pre-plan some post-exam celebration together. The next few days were excruciating because I had finished my last exam before the weekend. I had nothing to do other than wait for Tom to finish with his. I logged onto msn periodically to see if Tom was on, but he never was. He was only on once on Tuesday afternoon and I chatted with him briefly, I had asked him where he was last night and he said he went out with a few friends after they finished with their exam. We didn't chat much longer because he had to study for his last exam. On Wednesday afternoon, I logged on waiting to hear from him. I waited all day, but he never logged on. I figured he probably went out celebrating with his classmates again. I waited all night and still nothing.
Thursday, May 1, 2003. I woke up and tried to keep myself busy. I was mostly excited because my summer holidays were officially starting. I had about a week off before I officially started my summer job. I wanted to get together with Tom because it had been nearly a week and a half since I last saw him. But he never logged on at all on Thursday. I thought it was really weird but I figured he must of had a good reason for doing so. I kept myself busy by running some errands and hanging out at the University getting ready for work. But when ever I was near a computer, I would log onto msn to see if Tom was on. He still wasn't. I spent most of the evening waiting to see if he'd ever log on; finally I got sick of waiting and picked up the phone.
My heart sunk when after I dialed his number, an automated operator's voice came on telling me that the number had been temporarily disconnected at the customer's request. I was confused. I thought I had dialed the wrong number. I called again and I got the same message. I was in disbelief. I must have dialed his number 4 or 5 times before it finally sunk in. I logged onto msn to see if he was there, and he was still off line. I didn't want to panick. I figured I'd go down on Friday to see what was going on.
Friday, May 1, 2003. I woke up, not feeling very confident about the whole situation. I was worried. I didn't know what to think! A bunch of things were going through my mind. Was he hurt? Was he dead? What had happened to him? Did he leave Ottawa without telling me? Did something happen to someone in his family? I wasn't completely crazy, I didn't rush over immediately, I didn't make it over to Tom's place until around later that afternoon. I stopped off on campus before I went over. I still was worried and I didn't know what to expect. I knew that I had already begun to feel the pain of doubt.
I got to his building and tried ringing up to his place, but his phone was disconnected. I couldn't get into the building so I went into the rental office to talk to someone. Some young girl had been sitting there and I had asked if there was a manager or someone that I could speak with. That person turned out to be her father. I waited while she went to get him. He came out and asked me what he could do. I briefly told him that I was curious about one of his tenants, a friend of mine that I haven't heard from in about 2 weeks. I wanted to see if he was still there. I told him that it was Tom that I was inquiring about and he pulled out the tenant's file to see what was going on. He told me that Tom was still a tenant with the building but it appeared that he was a whole month late in rent not to mention the current month's rent was due. This grabbed me by surprise because paying rent on time should have been no problem at all for him or his family.
The manager asked me a few questions in terms of when I last heard from him. I told him that the last time I was over at his place was about two weeks ago. He asked me if Tom was expected to leave for the summer. I told him that Tom had decided to stay for the month of May before he returned home, and that we wanted some time to hang out with each other since we didn't have school to worry about. He asked me when was the last time I spoke to him. I told him that I hadn't spoken to him since the last time I had saw him, but had communicated with him through email and msn. I told him that I was worried as it wasn't like him not to be online and for him to have his phone temporarily disconnected. The last question the manager asked me was if I had any reason to believe that Tom might have inflicted injury to himself.
Time seemed to have stopped at that percise moment as my brain scanned over the last weekend we spent together. I thought back to when started to cry and what we were talking about prior to that moment. I had asked him what he felt about himself. Tom was very harsh on himself and had so much doubt and so little self-worth. My heart seemed to have taken its last inhaled of hope and held it without beating again. I heard Tom's voice in my head as he quietly muttered to me: "I wonder why anyone bothers with me, why do people waste there time with me?... because there's always someone better out there than me." I looked up at the manager and I felt ill and swept with dizziness. I probably subconsciously stopped breathing. I shook my head in doubt, not knowing what the answer would be.
The manager told me he would take me up to his apartment, but couldn't open the door because he needed 24 hours notice... or unless, there was something up there that would prompted him to do so. I shuddered at the thought, but I knew exactly what he meant. We rode up in the elevator and he told me that so many students were either packing up and moving out or simply leaving for the summer. He tried to recall who Tom was and he finally said that he remembered Tom to be a quiet guy, someone who never seemed to bother anyone. He normally always paid rent on time, actually, he paid rent several months in advance. It was strange that it hadn't been paid lately. He continued to tell me that it would have been difficult to notice if Tom had left because there were so many people coming and going. I wasn't sure if he was trying to comfort me or trying to help me?
We reached his floor and I practically ran to his apartment. I knocked on the door, and without even waiting I called out his name: "Tom, you in there?"... nothing. I knocked again and called out again asking if he was in there. I turned to the manager and asked him if the girl next door was still there as she could have noticed if Tom had left or not. He shook his head and told me that he remembered when she had left because she came in to see him prior to her leaving. She wouldn't have seen anything. I knocked another time. The manager finally commented that the didn't smell anything. I looked at him. I knew exactly what he meant, and I actually felt comfort in that. It was apparent that Tom wasn't home. Perhaps he was out?
On our way back down again the manager asked me if I had a contact number for Tom's parents. I told him that I did and that I would call them as soon as I got home. The manager passed me his business card and asked me to call him once I figured out what had happened to Tom. I thanked the manager for his time and help and I staggered down the street in drunken confusion and wonderment. My heart was still holding its breath of hope and not showing the slightlest sign of exhaling.
The time was only 4pm in the afternoon. I had 2 hours to wait before I could make a long distance phone call for free. I didn't want to think the worst nor did I want to believe that there was any reason to be worried. The bus ride home was quicker than I expected. A bunch of questions were running through my head. Was Tom simply out with friends? Did Tom simply leave Ottawa without telling me? Is Tom safe and alright... where ever he was? I was really becoming a worry wart. I got home around 4:30pm and paced in my apartment. I tried to logically figure out the most rational answer I could. Something bad had happened at home and he had to leave right away without any notice. I didn't want to think that Tom was lying lifeless in his room. I didn't want to think that Tom had simply left because of something that I had done.
The last question plagued me for the next 90 minutes. I started to feel that I had somehow pushed Tom away. That it was my fault that this was all happening. What did I do? Was it the weekend that we had spent together? He did tell me that he walked all the way home from my place after that night he cried. That he walked around for an additional three hours before he finally gotten home to sleep. What was he thinking about? What doubts did he have? Was he afraid of something? Did he regret anything?
The minute hand of the clock had finally clicked over the 12. It was 6 o'clock. I had found Tom's parents number during my pacing and had placed it next to the phone. I picked up the phone and dialed the number. My heart was pounding, my hands cold and clammy. I only wanted to know one thing at this point: was Tom okay? Part of me wanted Tom answer so I could hear his voice and know that he was alright. As much as I wanted that to be true, it pained me to think it because it meant that for whatever reason, Tom had left Ottawa without saying goodbye.
A woman's voice picked up and said hello. In a shaky voice, I asked if Tom was there. She told me that he hadn't made it back from work yet. I was confused at first but remember that Tom was named after his father. I corrected myself and asked for Tom jr. She asked me who I was and I told her that I was a friend from Ottawa looking for Tom. She paused momentarily and then quietly told me to hold on. My heart continued to pound and I tried to listen desperately through the phone. Finally I heard the phone being grabbed and I heard a 'hello'. My heart exhaled. It exhaled slowly through a small torn fissure in my heart, delfating steadily and quickly.
"Oh, you're home" I finally said. He said 'yeah'. He didn't speak much. He didn't offer anything else unless I prompted him for more. I asked him when he left. He said he left after his last exam. Another short and to-the-point answer. "Why? I thought you were going to stay for a few weeks?" I finally asked. He told me that he had spoke to his younger sister and she wanted him to come home as soon as he was finished with school. I had no more questions. I told him that I was worried, but glad to know that he was at home. He continued to tell me that he simply made the arrangments on Wednesday and everything was disconnected on that day. He left early Thursday morning. No one knew that he was leaving. It was all last minute. We were silent for what seemed to be forever. He finally told me that he had to go because they were about to eat dinner. I told him okay and we hung up.
I held the phone to my chest and started to pace. I no longer needed to worry about the worst. My heart had finished exhaling its last ounce of hope. My soul cried out urging my heart to join, but my heart stiffened. I wanted to cry, but my heart would not allow it. It knew this was coming. It knew. I continued to pace while I tried to be thankful that Tom was okay and safe at home. I was disappointed. I was hurt. I wanted my body to react accordingly. Shouldn't I be overly dramatic and crying about it? I was abandoned by someone that I thought I had gotten so much closer with. I started to get angry with myself, only because my body wasn't allowing me to deal with the emotions. Perhaps my brain wasn't going to allow me to stoop that that level knowing I was more sensible than that.
Now what? I asked myself. I turned on some music. It was already about 6:30pm. I was alone now. No more Tom. So why wasn't I sad about it? I was frustrated. The phone rang. It was Rob. He asked me what I was up to, I told him not much. He started to talk about the new X-Men movie was opening that evening and that he wanted to watch it. He asked me if I wanted to join him and a bunch of his other friends. I told him that I didn't know... I was silent. I was alone. Rob asked me if that meant that I didn't want to see it or if there was a problem with going with so many people? I couldn't speak, it started to happen. I was all by myself. "Well?" Rob asked impatiently.
I shrugged my shoulders. I knew how ridiculous that was because he couldn't see me. I shook my head in response. My eyes shut and I started to fight what I had demanded of my body in the past 20 minutes. I took a breath and told him that it probably wasn't a good idea. I said it quickly letting out too much air at the same time. "What? Why?" Rob kept badgering me with questions. I couldn't hold it in anymore. I cried out that I didn't want to and that I couldn't. This must of shocked Rob as he immediately asked me what was wrong. I belted out that Tom had left me. He was gone. He left without saying good bye. I cried. My chest sunk in a painful heap crushing my stomach. I felt ill again. Without saying anything more Rob told me that he would be right over.
I hung up the phone and allowed myself to slowly fall to the floor. I cried. And I cried pretty darn hard too. It was all finally starting to come out. I was hurt and angry and hurt. "Why?" I kept asking myself. I'd never know.
Let me tell ya, life sucked after that. I fell victim to depression and sorrow. I tried to remain positive and upbeat, but my light, my sunshine was taken from me. I was alone and I could shake the feeling. I had lost Tommy and I didn't know why. Losing Tom made me think about Rod. I had lost him too. Lost him to a night of stupidness. A night in which I never saw Tom the same again. My friendship with Dragan was quickly deteriorating. A mistake was made at work and I wasn't going to be paid for nearly a month. Rent was due, Dragan wanted his money back. I grew a stong disliking for him because he had no compassion for my lost. He had no idea what was going on. I was alone and no one was there to see me. I was overwhelmed and my depression had gotten worse.
I did what I could to keep myself busy. I looked for a new job and found one. I took up jogging. I tried communicating with Dragan but that didn't seem to help. I tried finding a shoulder to lean against. Marshall was there. He was there to listen. He listened to me telling the same story over and over again. He was patient. Very patient to have put up with me. Oh God, I don't think I've ever thanked Marshall enough for him being there for me. I don't know how I managed to survive at all. I practically stopped eating. But I kept running. I kept running because I had nothing else to do. I guess I really wanted to run. Run away as far as my legs could carry me. Run away until I was so distant that no one could see me. And you know what? That was actually happening because I had lost so much weight, I was literally starting to fade away. I ran until my withered couldn't carry me anymore. I reached the point where my legs couldn't carry me anymore. I ran myself right into the ground and I became sick.
To be concluded...
