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A Short Story of A Man.

Updated on September 16, 2016

Misery and liquid

A gentle smile wrapped in the warmth of sunlight, the scent of lilacs in the wind, an involuntary tear in the eye, an outpouring of joy, the shade from the trees, puffy white clouds in the sky. Sunset, experienced in the most wonderful way possible. With love and meaning, with elation and hope for the future.

The sky darkens, the moon rises, the smile replaced with a soft kiss, surprising but warranted. A slight taste of peaches in the caress between lips. The wink of an eye, an innocent look on the other. Nudged playfully for the unexpected display of affection. Holding the other tightly as the temperature cools and night has fully taken over.

The wind rises, and we live happily. Time passes, love grows, reality strikes. Misunderstandings occur, disaster unfolds. Time passes, love ebbs and grows for another, one leaves, making sure the other is happy. Weeks, months, years, the one still makes sure the other is happy. Misery sets in, agony follows, liquor dulling the senses.

Self-loathing, self-pity, one grows drunk constantly, and pathetic. Began learning different things. The philosophies of life bring intrigue. The drinking continues. New fondness for perspective and wisdom. The drinking continues. Meet new people and begin to rebuild life. The drinking continues. Then, it happened.

Misery and self-loathing hit their zenith. Drank too much. Over the course of 3 hours the amount of liquor consumed overwhelmed the one, and emergency treatment was in order. Waking up, the nurse on duty was thoroughly surprised to see this one alive. She said something about how they shouldn’t even be breathing right now.

With the epiphany of a near death experience fresh in mind, one was still forced to submit to rehab for 30 days on orders, no choice to be had. Once there, it new that this would not be a good experience. And it wasn’t. having one’s psychological buttons pushed daily, and with increasing frequency, was not how it thought life would be spent. Tests, tests, many tests were done. “To what end?” It thought, but the answer never came, not a logical one anyway. Withdrawing further within oneself, it waited for this, some of the worst days spent, to end.

Outside felt good, it was missed and was very refreshing. Coming back, nobody wanted to talk to it, so for weeks on end it spent its evenings and weekends alone. Drinking, but much less now. The lesson was learned. A mistake not to be repeated once more. As it waited, alone, in the dark, for hell to pass.

New relationship encountered. Homeless, but chipper and interesting. A mother, but hopeful for the future. It began as things always do. Ended as they always do. Time changes people, and not always in the best way.

Three things that mark a decent human being:

How honestly they lived, how strongly they loved, and how gracefully they let go of things not meant to be.

Now things are as they used to be, with the scent of lilacs no longer in the wind.


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