the return of the ex

yesterday was not a good day. not a good day at all. the morning was filled with frustrating conversations that had me questioning if we were really making any progress at all in the work we are trying to accomplish. it is not a great feeling to be working so hard and feel that it may be for naught.

i had just finished a meeting with one of those conversations when my cell phone started ringing. i could see on my caller id that it was michael but did not feel that i was in the right state to deal with him at the moment. the ringing stopped and a few moments later a chime sounded indicating that he had left a voice mail. i decided that it likely would be a good idea to at least listen to the voice mail so that i could know the nature of what i would be dealing and be prepared to do so when i got back with michael later in the date. what i heard next unleashed an avalanche of conflicted emotions that carried throughout the rest of the day. it was michael in a very panicked voice hurriedly sharing that he had been in a terrible car accident and that they were taking him to a nearby hospital. he ended the message with a declaration of "i love you and please help me."

my mind immediately started racing with images of a bloody michael on a stretcher and fears that i had heard his last statements in life via a phone message. wracked with guilt i immediately dialed the call back code and the phone started ringing. michael answered after a couple of rings. "good, he's not dead," was my first thought. his first words were echoes of those in the message -- terrible car accident, he was in an ambulance being taken to the hospital. he sounded scared and vulnerable. i heard a voice in the background and then after what i could tell was a handing over the phone, the background voice came on telling me she was a paramedic, that michael had been in a car accident, that while shaken up and a little bruised by the deployment of the air bag, there were no apparent injuries and his vital signs were strong. she then gave me the number of the hospital and said that i could probably call them in about an hour to see how he was doing.

after what seemed like the longest hour on record, i called and got through to where michael was in the emergency department. we spoke briefly and he still seemed pretty out of it. fortunately, michael's boss was there. he had been contacted about the accident and had gone to the hospital to see how he could be of help. i spoke with him and he indicated that he was still trying to piece together what happened. he had shared that michael had not been well and had been experiencing blackouts, several of which had been occurring while he had been driving. such was the case in this situation. he advised that i call back in another 15 minutes or so when he would likely have more information.

well, the 15 became over 30 because i was still at work and my assistant chose that moment to come in and tell me about a few more issues that were not going well. after that bit of cheery news, my phone started ringing and i could see it was michael's boss. i told my assistant i needed to take the call and she headed off. what i learned next was that michael was going to be fine and that they would be releasing him shortly. michael's boss was then going to drive him home where he shared that ryan (michael's housemate) and charles (his new bf) would be to take care of him.

i have to admit that at the mention of charles's name my mood darkened a bit. while i was glad that michael had someone who could be there to care for him, i was also reminded of the hurt i experienced over the fact that he and michael started dating just two months after michael and i had broken up and that over these several months of loneliness and isolation that i had been experiencing they were together. i ended up speaking with michael briefly and told him that i would call him after he got home.

the work day ended, and, after i got home i immediately called michael. no answer. i left a message on voice mail. after another twenty minutes he called me back. he was in pain from the bruises and distraught about the accident. i did my best to calm him and encourage him that things would be all right, that he should rest and let ryan and charles take care of him.  as the conversation wound down, he felt the need to share, "you should know that i do love you." it was not what i wanted to hear. i thought how i didn't want to hear the words "i love you" when he had spent the last year doing very little to actually demonstrate that love. i didn't want to hear those words when for the last four months he was fucking someone else and i was alone. but i didn't share that. instead i said, "i care about you too," and said i would call him today to see how he was doing. and as i hung up i thought again about how he was being enfolded in love and i had no one.

the rest of the night was spent as so many others have been in depressed silence and isolation, pondering how deeply unsatisfying my life has become.