One more drop

He wanted it so desperately.

 One more drop. That was his only thought.  

One more drop. One more sip. One more glass. Anything to drown the pain. Anything to drown the reality of feeling utterly useless. Anything to cover up the truth that things were going wrong. That he made the mistake to ignore the truth. To ignore the one thing he ever cared about.

 Her!

His thoughts just whirled in his head as he stared through his bloodshot eyes around the messy room. He sat on his bed utterly resigned. He never meant it to go this far. He never meant it to hurt anyone.

It started with just you know the casual drink here and there. And he was never much of a drinker. He just enjoyed having a good glass of wine after a day's work. He enjoyed the few beers he drank with his pals at the bar. It did not make him an alcoholic. No, it did not.

What was the big deal?

It wasn't! Yet, it was always one more drink. That one drink leading to an extra hour away from home. That one drink that led to five more. That fifth leading to the eight which had him dragging his feet all the way home at five in the morning.

BUT I NEVER GOT DRUNK! That thought rang angrily with a shrill in the back of his mind.

He knew she was waiting. He knew he had responsibilities. But he was enjoying himself.  The music in the background. The great time with friends.

 Sometimes a MAN NEEDS TO GET AWAY! JEEZ!

Frustrated, he held on to his hair. Sometimes, he continued in his mind. Sometimes, I was just caught up.

The voice inside him grew faint. Sometimes, I was just caught up.

Again and again it repeated. Sometimes, I was just caught up.

And finally as tears ran down his shallow face as he sat on his bed with his head in his hands, as the anger died inside of him,  one  sole thought remained.

I'm sorry.