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© Nisha Ghosh

Drama Classics Inspirational

2 Minutes   13.4K    552

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I plonk on the couch after a long day. With my fifth rum cola on the rocks in one hand and the other hand free for scratching my dog’s ears, this is by far the best part of my day. I’m not too fond of alcohol; it's just that sometimes I need a catalyst to make the night easy for me, to help me sleep in peace. As I sit sipping my drink, feeling the immediate chill of the ice cubes in my mouth and the warmth in my belly, I slowly drift away into my thoughts. The dim lights are comforting as opposed to the harsh lights at work, always forcing you to stay up and on the job. Somehow nights aren’t my favourites, especially since I live alone. It compels me to think, unlocks all those doors behind which I have safely stashed my feelings and secrets. It makes me lonely. I shut my eyes tight and see him standing in front of me. Its during nights like these that I go back to him. Very few times in life you meet someone who is perfect, so bloody perfect that it scares you that you yourself may ruin it. How can someone be in love with your flaws and imperfections? How can someone just figure out the right things to say at the right time? That one reassuring smile or touch, always having your back, always keeping you happy, pushing you to do more for you, fanning the fire inside you to achieve more... I look around my home, I now have own house, car and independence, have a heavy bank balance, can indulge in all my whims and fancies, not think twice before splurging. However, I have lost just the one thing that beats all of this any day. I gulp in the last remnants of my drink; I can feel tears running down my cheeks. Reaching out for my phone, I dial his number. It keeps ringing. After what seems like centuries, he picks up. He keeps saying hello for quite a while. I remain mum, holding my hand over my mouth. I don’t want to let my sobs escape for he may know who I am. He disconnects the call; I keep looking at his photo on my screen. Pushing myself out of the couch, I drag myself up the stairs and into my bed. Sometimes decisions can’t be reversed. Sometimes regret is all we have.

love regret choice decisions alcohol

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