Five Bottles of Beer

Her mind was a rage of thoughts and her only companions were 5 bottles of beer.

She unscrewed the nozzle of the first bottle, and with that her thoughts, that were seeking an outlet. An outlet that her numbness on being drunk gave them.

I thought I knew you. I really thought I did. But as much as I tried to learn your mind and heart, I began to lose mine own. And that’s what I loved about you. You transported me to a haven, away from reality. But that’s what I hated about you – making your presence an escape from reality for me. I forgot my reality as I surrendered myself to you.

With that, she tossed the bottle away in a trash can, almost wishing that she could do the same with his memory that was a stubborn inscription in the emollient walls of her flimsy rationality. And high on the idea of unrequited love, she gulped some more of the burning liquid from the second bottle.

Love is beautiful. I’d be lying if I said ours wasn’t. But perhaps it wasn’t love in the first place. Perhaps it was just an imbecile infatuation that messed up my mind more than anything ever could.

Staggering barefooted, she weighed all the possibilities that made them burn. Amidst the furore that her thoughts were, she opened the third.

If it would have been love, you would have forgiven me. You would have forgiven me as I struggled to forgive myself. Because hurting you was not even on my list. But I did. And I haven’t been able to forgive myself, more so because you haven’t been able to do that.

She wiped her mouth that was now reeking of the smell of the intoxicant – the beer or him, she wasn’t able to make up her mind. But shrugging the vain thought, she reached for what gave her most comfort and yet again added to her insobriety.

I didn’t hate him. Even though sometimes unthinkingly I said that I did, I didn’t. He stood beside me and carried me when I did not deserve it at all. He made me feel loved, worthy and beautiful. He let me have his smile, the one that only he could plaster on my face. That was true happiness. And that’s what I am thankful for. But mostly, I am thankful for having been taught how to live without him.

Saying these last few words out loud, she tumbled onto the sand. She lay unconscious as fifth bottle of beer lay by her side, unopened.

~Ritika

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