Talk To Me: Thinking From the End

By Sameer Zahr

Peter walked and walked at a slow, meditative pace, admiring the surroundings of the area and savoring the fresh air. He saw a few individuals sparsely spread in the distance. He also saw a deer grazing in the meadows, succumbing to the interference of people visiting its territory. An hour later, he sat on a bench in a very quiet area and pulle

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sameer Zahr
• Release date: Oct 15, 2020
• ISBN: 9781951933791

Sameer Zahr

Sameer Zahr is the imaginative mind behind the captivating novel "Midlife Moon: From Darkness to Bright Light." With a lifelong interest in writing, Sameer has penned ten novels, all of which are available on Amazon, weaving tales that carry poignant messages of love and transformation for humanity. A seasoned international businessman, Sameer embraced his passion for storytelling after retiring, bringing a wealth of worldly experiences to his literary endeavors. Each of his ten books reflects Sameer's commitment to infusing his narratives with humanitarian and spiritual themes, offering readers stories that uplift and inspire

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Talk to Me

Copyright © 2020 by Sameer Zahr

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.

ISBN

978-1-951933-82-1 (Hardcover)

978-1-951933-81-4 (Paperback)

978-1-951933-79-1 (eBook)

Table of Contents

Chapter 1     A Drastic Change

Chapter 2     The Retreat

Chapter 3     A New Friendship

Chapter 4     Unwelcomed Events

Chapter 5     New Challenges

Chapter 6     A Defiant, Fresh Beginning

Chapter 7   A Center of Love

Chapter 8     The Big Doors Open

Chapter 9     Unexpected Events

Chapter 10   New Transformations

Chapter 11   A Clearer Outlook

Chapter 12   New Revelations

Chapter 13   A Few Bumps in the Road

Chapter 14   Thinking from the End

Chapter 15   Wishes Fulfilled

Chapter 16   A Fulfilling Life

Prologue

Right around midnight, Peter’s mobile phone rang. Both he and Stella were sound asleep. Peter, startled, got up to fetch his phone from the living room. It was Brandon, the male nurse from the rehab center calling.

I’m sorry to bother you at this hour, Peter, but I thought I should tell you that twenty minutes ago we received someone drunk and wasted, who knocked loud on the door, shouting, ‘Help . . . Help.’ He insisted, in his rumbling words, to talk to Stella. I told him there was no Stella here, but he said he wouldn’t leave before she sees him, and he refused to give us his name . . .

Thank you, Brandon, it’s good you called, what is he doing now? I presume he’s still there?

I gave him a pill to help him sleep, and I pumped out his stomach first. He’s sound asleep now in one of the rooms downstairs. What should I do when he wakes up in a few hours and starts asking for Stella again?

Please take a photo of him sleeping on his back and forward it to me on my phone. I think I know who he is. I wouldn’t worry about him; he’s not dangerous. Just keep an eye on him and treat him gently. When he’s about to wake up call me again, and I’ll go down to see him. Thanks.

Stella, up in bed, was anxious to know what’s going on. Peter briefed her, and they both quickly agreed that it must be her ex-boyfriend, Marty. While talking, Peter received a message with the photo, and it was indeed Marty Chen. They both looked at one another in wonder. Stella then said, How ironic, we were just talking about introducing him to your ex, Amy. What a mental telepathy! He’s sleeping in the center that he gave us the money for. Poor Marty! We both thought he’d be sober and clean for good. We should both go down to see him and try to put some sense in his head.

Are you sure you want to come, given how he treated you before?

Yes, why not? I have nothing to fear, and you’re with me. Let him know the truth. At around six in the morning the phone rang again, and it was Brandon. He is beginning to wake up. He is turning from side to side again.

We’ll be there in the next thirty minutes. Try to keep him alert until we come. Tell him Stella is on her way to see him, and give him coffee to help him stay awake. See you soon! Peter said.

They got out of bed, took a quick shower, got dressed and found a taxi to take them to the center. Before they arrived they silently pondered the upcoming sight of a young man, gifted but unstable, rich with money but poor in judgment. Stella reflected on his past behavior and pitied his reoccurring swings. The big doors opened and they walked in to his room. Brandon said the man was awake and drinking coffee. The other patients were all asleep upstairs. Stella entered the room and found him sitting up on the bedside in his clothes. He noticed her from the corner of his eyes and he looked drowsy and miserable when she greeted him Hello Marty, long time no see! What a surprise? How are you feeling now?

I don’t know . . . I’m not feeling so good—um . . . am I?

You’ll be all right soon don’t worry, you’re in a safe place now. I would like to introduce you to my partner, Peter Donavan.

Ha! The hero who—who stole you away from me, Marty said with a vicious laughter.

Peter came closer, looked at him and pretended he did not hear what he said and asked, How did you know about this place, Marty?

What do you mean? You—you’re all over the news. You are both famous, Marty said with a laugh.

So what brings you here, you went wild again? I thought you learned your lesson, Stella said.

What lesson? I’ve—I’ve been a good boy! Um . . . you—you know! When I—I read and heard about what you—you did with my money I—I went out for a drink to . . . to celebrate, Marty stuttered.

Marty, I’m sure you’re happy to see that the money awarded to me out of the disputed case did not go in my pocket but was fully used to serve addicts in need. It was a good deed, but that is not the way to celebrate your gift: by getting drunk or doing drugs again. What can we do to make sure you control yourself and to stop this harmful behavior? You are only hurting yourself, you know! Stella firmly stated but was not sure Marty was paying attention to anything she said.

Are you two ma—married now?

No we’re not! Did you listen to what I just said, Marty?

Will you—you invite me to—to your wedding?

Lord have mercy on me! If we do, yes we will invite you; can you focus a bit on our conversation? Drink some more coffee and concentrate. You got us up here this early because we care about your well-being . . . so hear me out please!

Uh-huh, you still love me don’t you? Marty asked.

Marty, listen to me. I stopped loving you the way I used to before, and I love Peter now, and we’re good together. You should be happy for me, as much as I would love to be happy for you when you put your act together. Don’t screw up your life with this stupid binge of drinking and drug abuse. Look at yourself in the mirror sometimes. You are handsome, smart, and a decent man. You are blessed with good fortune and a great career. Don’t blow it to pieces. You deserve better, and someday you will attract a beautiful and good woman who would love you and take care of you. Don’t give up on your life yet! Are you listening, or am I talking to a wall? Stella wondered.

I hear you . . . and I’m—I’m sorry to bother you again. I broke the law here um . . . our agreement does not allow me to—to see you. What do I do now? Please tell me, Marty said with misty eyes. He broke down and began sobbing from his inner pain. Stella looked at him with compassion and sat by his side on the bed.

She held his hand for a few seconds before she said, Marty, I advise you to have the courage to see a therapist who can help you to shovel out the confusion from your mind. You need to regain your self-esteem and love yourself. You temporarily lost sight of who you are. It’s all right; it happens to all of us at one point or the other. You’re not an addict! You’re just a confused soul right now. Peter and I can find a good psychotherapist who can help you kick out the demons from your mind. Are you willing to give it a try?

I’ll do whatever you—you say . . . sorry again Then he looked at Peter and said, You’re a good man, Peter, please take care of—of this amazing woman, Marty softly demanded.

I promise you I will, Marty. Please try to remember what Stella just told you. Consider her your sister now, and me your brother. In a mysterious way, we owe it to you for making this humanitarian rehab center possible. But, you don’t belong here. My heart was broken before, when my wife left me, but after thorough meditation I learned how to forgive her and forgive myself. Stella forgave you and it’s time you forgive yourself and love yourself again. Our manager will be here soon and will take you home to rest and sleep. Your visit remains highly confidential with us. We will call you on Monday and give you the name of the therapist you should see, OK?

OK . . . I promise. And I thank you both for your sweet love and care.

Marty stood up and hugged Peter and said, I loved Stella a lot, but now I love you both, as my new brother and sister. Marty started crying new tears of relief.

After a few moments he felt better, and Stella said, Marty, when I used to feel sad and desolate before, I always repeated the phrase, ‘Change your thoughts and you change your life.’ This mantra helps me to be grateful, living a new life. Try to repeat it to yourself all the time. I promise you your life will change for the better.

CHAPTER 1

A Drastic Change

Peter Donavan was desolate and itching to go away to regroup with his inner soul. Despite his successful career as a stockbroker on Wall Street and his sincere loyalty to his wife, Amy, she nevertheless abruptly walked out on him. He thought he had a healthy marriage the past two years until Amy told him unexpectedly that she was in love with another man who happened to be living in the same apartment building. She bluntly said she wanted to leave that same Friday afternoon. Peter was overwhelmed and shocked, yet she continued to say, I’m sorry, Peter, I decided that you should hear this directly from me. You have not met him, though we saw him a couple of times in the elevator. He lives in an apartment two floors above. I—I later saw him a few more times when I was alone in the elevator, and that—that’s when he introduced himself to me. After a brief conversation, he asked me if I have time to have a drink in his apartment. It was five p.m., and since you never come home before seven, I agreed. That was um, two months ago, and since then we’ve been seeing each other regularly.

Peter was astounded by the news that clipped his wings with despair. He pretended to be calm by clasping his hands tightly together as if it was the last thing he had to hold on to. He was boiling feverishly in his guts and his mind. He reluctantly asked her, What’s his name and what does he do?

His name is Sean, and he manages a real estate company founded by his father. He’s thirty-two and never been married.

Do you love him?

I guess so! Why would I leave you if it was just a fling? Amy said while still standing, restless and nervous.

Any chance you may reconsider your decision? Peter asked, hoping she might change her mind, and he would forgive her.

I doubt it. I—I am determined to pursue this relationship. I know things started out well between us, but we both have changed since then. You wanted to focus on your career and continued success. You continued to enjoy your fishing hobby, which I don’t like and which kept us apart many weekends. I wanted you to be there for me with your affectionate love, physically and emotionally, but all you could do was to provide financial support and comfortable living. Um . . . we don’t have fun together anymore. I told you many times I was not satisfied, but you—you ignored my remarks and kept on doing what you wanted to do, regardless of how bored I felt.

I do not fully disagree with what you said, but this happens all the time in marriages. We can talk about it and give it another chance, don’t you think?

I’m afraid it’s too late! My mind and my heart are elsewhere already. I’m sorry!

I see! What do you plan to do next?

It’s best I leave you now! I can pack a few things to take with me, and if you don’t mind I—I can return early next week to pick up the rest of my personal belongings.

Why not take everything now? I can give you a hand if you wish, Peter said facetiously.

No, I can’t do it all now. I have to go, as we have plans for the weekend. I—I can’t stay here any longer; I’m late already.

Uh-huh . . . and so it is! In that case I wish you all the best, and we’ll see what happens next. I will notify my lawyers to write a separation agreement and let the chips fall where they may, Peter said angrily.

OK, please keep it amicable. I—I want nothing from you since it’s my decision to leave. I hope we can stay friends, and again I’m sorry! Amy said before she went into the bedroom to pack her things in a small suitcase.

She walked out ten minutes later and found Peter still sitting in the same chair, staring at the ceiling with a capricious smile on his face. She asked if he’d give her a hug before she left, but Peter remained seated and said nothing. She left the apartment keys on the console and walked out the door.

Peter was dumbfounded and frozen in his seat for a solid thirty minutes. His mind played back a quick movie of his memories from the moment he first met Amy and how their relationship grew. He recalled how he initially appreciated her hunger for passionate lovemaking, an area that he had very limited experience with and which lured him to awaken his suppressed affections and timid feelings. He remembered how this initial passionate fire lost its glow after a while, and he understood how this extinguished flame of physical love prompted Amy to quit.

He got up and decided to go to the nearest bar for a drink that would take the edge from his saddened feelings and disturbing thoughts.

*      *      *

Peter had recently turned twenty-nine years old when this breakup happened. As a talented stockbroker, he worked hard and late, to the dissatisfaction of his wife. He was tall and handsome, with piercing green eyes, high cheekbones, and a masculine nose. His fair skin was crowned by light-brown hair. He was also athletically shaped, which added to his attractive look. He had promised his wife he’d try to work fewer hours and to spend more time with her, but he couldn’t live up to that promise. Amy stopped believing him and slowly became more frustrated. He also did not appreciate her lack of interest in other meaningful aspects of life or other cultural pursuits. Though he never contemplated a breakup, Amy, however, was vulnerable to fall for an intimate relationship outside the home.

Amy loved attention and wanted someone to always tell her how beautiful and sexy she looked. At twenty-five years of age, she was proud of her outer beauty and sexual appeal. She spent a lot of time in front of the mirror, checking her appearance as a brunette with brown eyes, a dainty nose, and short brown hair. Amy was of an average height, and she demanded that Peter should make love to her every night. Peter’s affectionate attention faded in less than a year after their marriage. She worked as a stylist in a beauty salon four days a week, and Peter took it for granted that she would always be loyal to him.

Sitting at the bar sipping his drink, the alcohol effect magnified his sorrow and his mind started racing with more disturbing thoughts. He thought, I feel cheated and abused, mad and deeply hurt. I’ve been loyal to her, and I loved her the best I could, and I honored our vows. Where did I fall short in satisfying her needs? I must have been not good enough for her in bed lately. I admit I gave much more attention to my career, but what else should an ambitious young man do, and is sex the main binding force in marriage?

Evidently, the diminished passion in our relationship impacted our intimacy. This must have encouraged her to look elsewhere to satisfy her constant physical needs. She’s now determined to go on a different life journey. I am angry that she was involved in a love affair behind my back. I am left all alone to lick my wounds now while she explores a new love adventure. I feel embarrassed, and my dignity is severely damaged. I should try not to stress over this and try not to feel guilty about it. Perhaps it is best I take some time off from work and travel somewhere far.

Peter spent more than an hour sitting at the bar. After four drinks he walked back to his apartment feeling heavy laden. He tried hard to control his balance and he finally made it. He went straight to the bedroom and crashed on his bed with his clothes on.

*      *      *

He woke up in the middle of the night with a headache. He took two pills to ease the pain and took his clothes off and went back to sleep. When he woke up again, he made some coffee and sat at the kitchen dinette to reflect on his new life. It was nine in the morning when it dawned on him that he forgot to go fishing with his friends. He called them to apologize after explaining what happened.

His dire condition reminded him of his past and how he felt after the loss of his parents, who died in a car accident when he was thirteen. He realized that he was still in grief, emotionally lost, and gravely desolate. Luckily, he had an older sister, Anna, who took care of him after the tragedy they both endured. Anna was eighteen when the accident happened, and she was determined to remain strong around Peter, though she also grieved deeply when alone. They lived together in the house of their parents. The father left them a hefty insurance policy that provided them with a comfortable life. Anna made sure he finished his high school and his college education. She instilled within him a good sense of responsibility and eased his despair with her sisterly love. What she could not do, however, was to teach him how to treat a woman in a relationship.

He continued with his thoughts, and was at a loss as to what he should do next. His wife, Amy, was a close friend too. He had not developed strong friendships with others, even with his fishing companions. He was basically a loner, still in grief. He could not control his feelings of sadness, and all of a sudden, his tears came down his cheeks, and he started sobbing like a child. He did not expect to be abandoned again or feel rejected by a woman. He was tempted to call his sister, who was married and who lived in northern California. He figured he should resolve his issues on his own.

Peter took a deep breath and calmed down after a few minutes while drinking more coffee. He toasted some bread to eat; he had not eaten anything since Amy left him the day before. He decided to call his manager and ask him for some time off. His manager understood his situation and granted him a ten-day leave.

He wanted to express his sad feelings with words, so he opened his laptop to start a new journal. He wrote down a key question:

What do I do now?

•I can seek the help of a therapist, or

•I can go spend time with my sister in California, or

•I can go on a trip alone somewhere far from here

The therapist option is a long-term process, and it can wait. How can my sister help me, and why should I bother her? She has her family and work to occupy her time. Perhaps I’ll just give her a call later . . . What I may need the most is to travel somewhere I’ve never been before. Perhaps I could rent a small boat and go fishing? I need to quietly regroup with my inner self, regain my self-esteem, and re-ignite my true wish to move on.

I mostly desire to go within and listen to my inner voice. I remember when I was in college I had a conversation with one of my psychology classmates. He was a Buddhist monk on furlough from his monastery. He tried to encourage me to spend time alone and meditate.

His argument was having a personal quiet time would help me to connect and interact with my silent inner voice, which represents the true self within me. Once connected with that source, I would be developing an inner conversation with my own soul. This meditation should be done daily, and a divine guidance would show me the way to live happily.

Evidently, I did not follow his advice then, as my ego stood in the way of even trying. I ask myself now, is this something I should consider without further delay? I am definitely in a confused state of mind at this moment.

Peter took a pause from writing and decided to go online to check out travel destinations to consider.

While surfing through various possibilities online, he also checked individual retreat centers and locations, as an alternative to fishing excursions. He came across several retreats in and outside the United States. He thought for a while and decided perhaps it would be best to explore this new realm of inner growth. He felt the need to get to know himself better. He had neglected these soul-searching endeavors, as he didn’t think he needed that before. He had suppressed his personal grief and suffering since the loss of his parents and lived in denial instead of addressing his feelings inwardly a long time ago.

Among the retreat centers, he noticed the Spirit Rock Meditation Center, located thirty-five miles north of San Francisco. That was close to where his sister lived. He checked its details and found that it could be the perfect retreat for him. He liked the information he read and the images he saw. He decided this would be a better alternative than fishing. He could also visit with his loving sister for an overnight stay. It was about eight in the morning in California, and he figured it would be a good time to call Anna and check her schedule.

Peter dialed her number, and when she answered, he said, Hello, Anna, it’s been a while since we talked. How are you, John, and the kids doing?

Hi, good to hear from you stranger. What a surprise. What’s going on?

Um . . . Amy left me! Peter said abruptly.

What? Are you serious? Why . . . What happened?

She told me last night that she’s um . . . in love with someone else who lives in the same building. She’s been seeing him for more than two months and she—she simply wanted out, Peter replied nervously.

What do you mean out? To live without you?

Yeah, what else? She doesn’t love me anymore.

Has she gone crazy? How are you holding up?

Miserable . . . awful . . . and dismayed. I loved her in my own way, you know!

Did you try to get her back?

I tried, but she said no.

So what are you going to do now, Peter?

"I decided to go to a retreat near you for a week, and perhaps I can stop by and see