Love and success: A short story. Part 1

Hi everyone, I’m back with another short story and it’s been a good minute since I’ve posted a short story so I’m pretty excited about it. I’ve been busy with life, but it’s nice to take a break and get back to what I love, and that’s creating meaningful stories that leaves a positive impact in some way. This short story is about a woman who has always dreamt of being successful, but her ambitions have created problems within her love life. One day she decides to join a reality show cast of “Love and success” in which people of various socioeconomic status comes to an island for six weeks to find love.

I hope you enjoy!

Listen here!

Part One: Put on ice

“Charlotte, turn to your mother, and tell her exactly how you feel,” Mrs. Wrightsville said. This was our second therapy session, and I was feeling that even therapy couldn’t salvage me and my mother’s relationship.

“Mom, I just feel like you’ve always put Sarah and Ross before me,” I said. “That’s ridiculous, I’ve always loved the three of you the same,” my mom shouted. “See, this is what I mean. She never truly listens to me, and she thinks that the only way she feels heard, is if she shouts it. I can’t do this anymore, maybe therapy is just a waste of time. I’ve had enough. I grew up with her having constant fits of rage, and I won’t deal with it as an adult. I’ll let her holler at you, Mrs. Wrightsville, I’m out,” I said, as I got up to leave.

Our psychologist Mrs. Wrightsville is an older sophisticated and graceful black woman. She’s the kind of woman I’ve always wanted my mom to be. From the looks of the pictures on her desk, I can tell that her children are happy to call her mom. They are all very fortunate and blessed.

In a calm and patient tone Mrs. Wrightsville said, “Charlotte, please have a seat. You will never get far if you keep running.” I sat back down in the chair. “Don’t run from conflict, confront it.” Then she looked at my mom and said, “Myrtle, listen to understand where Charlotte is coming from before you speak.” “Fine, my mom said, in a snappish tone.

“Charlotte, please continue,” Mrs. Wrightsville said. “Thank you. As I was saying, I feel like you’ve always put Sarah and Ross before me. After dad died, I stopped being a priority in your life. You stopped coming to my games. We never spent mom and daughter time like we used to, and you even spoiled Sarah and Ross with things you’ve never given me as a child. I had to work three jobs just to pay for college, but you made it your business to put Sarah and Ross through college and attended every event they’ve ever had.

I just feel like after dad died, so did our relationship, and I don’t feel love or support from you, and haven’t for a very long time,” I said.

I was angry. So angry that I could burst into flames. I was hurt too, but not enough to cry. I’d cried enough about this over the past decade, and there were no more tears to cry. Therapy is me and my mom’s last hope. If this doesn’t work then we’re done, and I’m moving across the country to L.A..

Some people you just have to love from a distance.

“I don’t understand why you feel this way when I have done nothing but worked to give you the best life. After your dad died, I had to get out there and work my behind off to support us. There were some things that life insurance took care of, but it wasn’t enough to maintain the life we had before your father died. Then five years after your dad died, his brother and his brother’s wife died in a car accident, and I had to take my niece and nephew in, or the system would have chewed them up and spit them out God knows where!

By that time, you were damn near grown and I realized that I had been working a lot, and I hadn’t been in your life like I was when I was a stay-at-home mom. Sarah and Ross were still very young, and they’d been through something very traumatic, and I wanted to be the emotional support they needed. You’re right, a lot did change when your father died, because our lives changed, and I had to work,” mom said.

“I too needed emotional support mom. When dad died, it didn’t faze you at all. We never talked about how we felt, we just continued life, and it hurts because we grew further apart,” I said, before my phone rang. “I have to take this call,” I said. “It’s okay, our time is up for today. I will see the two of you on Friday,” Mrs. Wrightsville said.

The phone call was from Arden, my boyfriend. We had been having some slight relationship issues, due to my work schedule and us not spending much time together, but I thought that it was something we’d get through together until he said, “Charlotte, I think it’s best if we put it on ice for a while.” “I’m sorry, put what on ice?” I said.

“Us. Our relationship,” he said. “Why? I thought that we we’re getting through this. You know that I am up for promotion and I’m trying not to mess this up. I only need thirty more days and then I can make my own schedule and we can spend more time together,” I said.

“I’m sorry Char. I can’t do this anymore, at least not right now,” Arden said. “Oh yeah, well, you can’t put me on ice Arden. You know what happens to ice when it sits too long? It melts, and it’s no longer ice, and whatever was ‘put on ice’ goes bad, so no, it’s now or never with me. You can’t just put me on ice and come back when you want to. If you can’t do this anymore, fine, we’re done,” I said. “I guess we’re done then, and there’s nothing more to say but, goodbye Char,” Arden said.

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