All my bags are packed

A young man who seemingly has it all, finds himself on the brink of suicide as he can't contemplate another day of living in a city which has sapped all the life out of him. To add to his stress, his relationship with his father who he once and still does idolise, has all but crumbled. There's not many options left and on the brink of his 30th birthday he decides to travel abroad in order to escape the madness and restore his sanity. Where shall I go?


1. London I love you but you're killing me

Things haven’t gone that well recently. Lack of sales breed’s lack of confidence, getting up and motivated for work is proving to be harder as each day passes. Dad on the other hand is flying, deal after deal, deposit after deposit "what recession!" ‎i feel that my confidence is dwindling and sales that i could have closed with the smallest of effort a year ago, now seem like impossible targets i am unable to achieve. I find myself single after four years of turmoil, all self-inflicted of course. I cannot stomach another argument over mindless rubbish when there are more important issues at hand. I cannot stand being a mug, a mug for people who take my kindness for weakness and who see my good nature as a bottomless pit of wealth. I seem to be spending hundreds a month but for some reason i never have anything to show for it. Diesel, girlfriend and friends seem to take president over my finances now days, i however, seem to be wearing the same clothes for what seems a life time, even my shoes have been to the cobbler twice. Talking of which, Richard our friendly neighbourhood cobbler in Whetstone had a heart attack two months back whilst driving home from work. He came into to see me for our daily chat on the Thursday and had told me he how life was just one long hard battle to survive and in the end you die, leaving with what you came in with, nothing. The next day he had a heart attack whilst traveling on the M1 doing about 70 mph, he crashed and then had a subsequent stroke. It really affected me, it happened to the nicest man who toiled everyday trying to make an honest living. He wasn’t rich, he just worked for 50 years to survive and on the brink of retirement, he lost everything. I went to visit him in hospital; i was apparently the only one who did so. When i saw him, i was confronted by a man who could hardly string a sentences together, he had lost over four stones in weight and was diagnosed with brain damage due being clinically dead, his brain was starved of oxygen for 9 minutes. As he saw me, he shouted "Nikky" from across the room. It touched me and his wife Elian, how he remembered my name when he couldn’t even remember the name of his shop. As i looked around me, i saw what seemed to be a room full of middle aged men who had all had strokes or heart attacks. The nurse, who I got chatting with, explained that the vast majority of the patients in the room had owned their own business' and how the stress of recession had caused these hard working men to break down, not only mentally but physically. After an hour with Richard i had to leave, it was sad to see someone who once was a hard working individual and who effectionally called me "fucker" was now left an empty shell, unable to remember 50% of his life. The other 50% was a struggle to communicate due to his slurred speech, as he broke down and started to cry, i realized in that moment that life is precious and all of us are mortal. I made my excuses to Elian and looked for the exit, as i got into the lift and pressed G, the doors closed and i cried like a baby. I cried all the way from Alysbury back to London, i knew i was crying for Richard and the life he now had to live but i was also crying for my father. Dad was only a step away from being there in my eyes; it hit me so hard that i couldn’t control my tears. I didn’t want to see my father, who put his blood, sweat and tears into providing a better life for himself and family, end up in a stroke unit whilst trying. There were just too many similarities between the patients i encountered in that place and my dad who sacrificed everything for mine and Natalie’s greater good. I got home and for the first time in a long time, i hugged him and told him i loved him. I wanted to say it because i realized that life is short, one minute your here and the next you’re not. Who knew when i would next get the opportunity to tell him?
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