Sharing his pain

"Treasuring things are a proven technique to help combat pain if there is no one around. It works, at least for me." I said.

"Does this not go against your staying detached principle, the ones you learnt from the monks?" He asked, as if opening the floor for a debate.

"It doesn't. People compromise your feelings but things don't demand anything of you. You would agree with me that it's so much easier to stay detached towards things. A rich man like you can always get new things to suit your whim and fancy. Like that, you would never stay too attached too long to anything at all." I said.

I was twisting Buddhist meditation principles around to suit my current situation. I made it more practical. It was easy to achieve enlightenment if you were alone.

He chuckled. He then talked about another thing in his life- his company. He started off cheerily about the early days of taking over from his father. Then when he reached the present day narration, his enthusiasm gave way to sadness.

"I couldn't accept that Clara left me and stole with her the company's confidential information. At my lowest point, I attempted suicide. Fortunately or unfortunately (I view it both ways) I was found in time by my personal assistant. I overdosed. I realised then how selfish I was to end my life like that. My father had left me the company to manage, and it was his deathbed wish that I managed it well. I had failed him." He said.

I sat beside him and put one arm around him. He reached out for my arm and placed his palms on mine. He looked at me in pain.

"You can talk to me. I'm here to listen to you." I said.

I wanted to ease his sorrow and pain. It would do both of us good not to have him brooding and miserable for the whole month.

"Now I'm under imposed psychiatric help, no thanks to the shareholders of the company. After my failed suicide attempt, they insisted that I see a shrink. Otherwise they would vote against me. I'm seeing useless doctors who seem to make me more angry than anything else. But I try to be very patient and pretend I am on the road to recovery. I do that with the shrink, the shareholders, my well-meaning but annoying personal assistant...taking a whole load of prescription pills for my anxiety, depression and sleeping problems. These drugs make me erratic. Sometimes they work, sometimes they do not. Then again, I do not always remember to take them on time." He said.

"You can be yourself when you're with me. That's the point of hiring me, no?" I asked then.

It hit me like a lightbulb then that he never intended for us to have intercourse. He just wanted a pretty woman to whom he could vent out. Someone whom he need not be patient and cheerful with. I had my suspicions but now I knew for sure.

"Actually, I hired a call girl because I wanted to have sex with no strings attached. Do you know how long it has been since I had a woman in my bed?" He asked.

"Oh..." I said.

"...but it did not work out when I saw you." He said.

His words made me feel somewhat sad. I was not attractive enough despite what he said earlier. He was freaked out by my eyes, the same way I was with his piercing gaze.