"What I Once Had" by Emon R

I still think of you. Even though you're gone, far away from this corruption we once lived
in. I still talk to you… with words that I know will never reach you. I still dream, of that night.
The night you were upset, discontent with me. The night I tried to make it up to you. The night I
lost you.

I took you out, to make you happy and see the beautiful smile on your face. A smile that
any man wo uld die waiting for . The apartment was silent, yet that silence was quickly disrupted
by the sound of your trembling voice. The voice that had but one request. You pleaded me not to
drink. Not to let go of the little control I had left, but my ignorance got the best of me. Soon
enough, you agreed to my groundless reasoning and I took you out. We drove to the bar and at
that time, I thought I was doing it all for you, to make you not hate me, to make you forget the
past. To make amends for what I’ve done. Yet, I was only doing it for myself. I was drinking to
get my mind off the fear of losing you.

It was two in the morning. I had lost all of my control. The bar closed and we were
outside in front of my car and again, your voice quiv ered, with worry, pain, sorrow . The taxi line
down the street was seemingly endless, so I gently reached for the keys in my right pocket. My
vision was now bleared and your admirable appearance was practically gone, I still could only
hear the jitters in your voice. I don’t know if this was a curse or a blessing, but I convinced you
to get in the car so we could get home. To my remembrance, I could hear the sound of the
clinking keys as I started the engine of the car. The aftermath was all faint. But now I know, that
you never made it home. We never made it back to our small apartment outside of town and I
never got to hear your voice again. I’m hospitalized now, and nothing more than a paralyzed
man . My body is lies here, with no function, and all I am left with are my inner thoughts. Yet, I
still choose to think of you, and only you. It’s ironic, how the fear of losing you, made me lose
everything. Now that you’re gone, I realize that I was never the one for you, yet you always
stuck by my side. The curiosity kills me, to understand why you never left. Why you were
always there. Why you would give up everything for me. Your discontent came from the way I
acted, and you stuck with me, thinking I would change back to the same guy you met two years
ago. But I didn’t. And that ended up taking your life. Everyday I tell myself the same story,
hoping you’re listening. And yet, I regret to say that it’s meaningless. Because every time I tell
the story, everytime I scream your name with guilt, and everytime I cry myself to sleep.... it’s
just a reminder of what I once had. What we… once had.