River

1: money power glory

I hate to admit defeat. 

Growing up, however,  I had never considered losing as being something that was beneath me.

There always had to be a winner and a loser in any game that's played. That was the basic rule of the world.

 Not everyone could instantaneously get what they wanted, regardless of how much they begged, prayed or pleaded for it. 

But it's in fleeting moments, like now where my mind betray its own rationality by lingering thoughts to how he might be doing, where he might be, and who he might be with. It's not that I genuinely cared for him or his well being anymore. It simply was no longer my place to do so. 

I didn't want to be thinking about the man who broke my heart so irresponsibly. He left me broken, and feeling empty for months. He made the world think I was crazy. He painted me out to be the cynically manic one when he was the one pulling all the strings. 

What more can I say that any time someone brings up the ocean I think back to his gunmetal blue eyes and how easy it had been to get lost in them. 

They held the entire sea in them, cloudy from the storm yet clear enough for me to see through to. He had been a lighthouse in my life, who had always made sure my boat never went into the treacherous waters claiming its sailors for the sea. But that was no longer the case. 

My thoughts these days often made me take pity for myself. Why was this ghost of my past so prevalent in weighing on my mind?

His memory was like a never stopping pendulum swinging over my head. My thoughts betrayed me to travel to the world of River Blue Morales at random times during my most of my days.

It wasn't something I was proud of at all, rather a much anticipated topic my therapist held to be important during our weekly meets. He had been the topic of most of my therapy sessions when I had first moved to San Fransisco, but now had mellowed down to become a brief juncture into my evolving life story.

He turned his back on me a long time ago, but the heart's a weird thing. Absence makes it grow fonder.

 Despite the fact I've shut him out of all of my thoughts, certain things made me forget all the heartbreak he put me through all those years ago, and wonder what would life have been like if we had actually gotten married.

Sometimes I randomly get the urge to drive by his street, searching for any signs of him by his villa or maybe cruising around in his prized white buggati chiron. But I couldn't, I've physically and mentally distanced myself for him for a reason. It's a seven hour flight and a forty five minute drive to get anywhere near him.

Being 2, 500 miles away from him definitely changed me for the better. I grew confidence I never knew I had and began living for myself. I stopped relying on the luxuries that I had become so desensitized to and had to bring myself back down earth side. 

My world in Manhattan was sheltered to say the least. I had gone to private schools all my life, with my nanny, Miscka accompanying me to and forth, my driver Arnie driving me everywhere I had to go and my cook, Alejandro making sure I didn't even get to learn how to use the toaster during the 18 years I had lived with my parents. 

Money was a strange thing. It gave you so many luxuries and opportunities but at the same time made you go blind to the larger picture. 

Money was something my father was never short of. To him it was like the grease on your finger tips, easily disposable. My father had waved his fortune around my brother and I for the better part of our childhood, ensuring that we too, just like him and his father before him, would grow up with the aspirations of taking over the family business- to continue making money and never break the cycle.