The Cold Night of Regrets

Forgiving yourself is the hardest thing too do

The sun was sitting early on the wet cold streets. The icy rain fell from the sky causing pedestrians to walk with care and vehicles to move slower than usual.

An old man in a threadbare coat and a knit cap that was a donation from a woman who knitted them herself. Then taking them to the shelter and giving them away.

He was running out of breath so he stopped and with his back against the wall of a clothing store. He took a few deep breaths and took a bent cigarette from the crumbled up pack in his coat pocket.

He lit the cigarette and took a deep drag. He coughed up some blood but he still smoked it down to the filter. He dropped the butt on the sidewalk. He started to continue the trek to the shelter. When he saw the family walk into the small Italian restaurant.

His heart stopped and he choked back a sob. As he watched the family that could have been his as the hostess seated them next to the picture window.

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It was twenty years earlier but it all came back to Dave like it was yesterday. He was named “Salesman of the Month” for the second month in a row.

His manager threw him a party after the office closed. The lights dimmed and someone cranked up a boombox. Dave was drinking a beer and chatting up a pretty Receptionist. when we saw people coming out of the men’s room smiling and laughing.

“ What’s going on in there?” He asked the Receptionist pointing with the hand that held the beer. The woman smiled.

“ Tony brought an eight-ball.” The party is about to get wilder. You should try a few lines. You will love it.”

Dave had heard how good the high from Cocaine was so out of curiosity he headed to the men’s room.

He soon lost his job and his family. Linda threw him out and filed for Divorce because Dave liked the rock more than he loved his wife and kid.

Dave was arrested for trying to steal a gold watch from a jewelry store. In prison he got clean but he still drank and he never could hold a job.

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He wept as he watched through the picture window. As the son he conceived beamed as the man who raised him took a gift wrapped box out of the bag he carried into the restaurant.

The young man’s mother said something that caused the three of them to laugh as he unwrapped his gift.

“ He looks like me.” Dave thought as the tears froze on his face. He couldn’t take it anymore. He turned away and headed to the homeless shelter where he had been spending his nights since he got out of prison.

The lights were out in the sleeping area. the only illumination was from the tables where the Staff were talking. Dave laid on his bunk staring at the bunk above him.

“ I’m in my late fifties. Do I want this to be my life?” He thought as the men on either side of him snored and moaned.

He couldn’t stand being in the shelter one more minute. He got off the bunk and put on his backpack and headed for the exit. “ Are you sure you want to leave Dave?” One of the staff members asked as Dave walked by the tables.

“ It’s below freezing outside. It’s three hours before wake-up time. “ Dave didn’t stop or slow down. He kept walking. The staff member shrugged and went back to reading the paperback he brought to get him through the night.

The first hard snow of winter blew through that evening. Dave trudged through snow on the sidewalks that was passed his ankles. He was exhausted when he made it to the bridge that spanned the river that flowed black and cold below it.

He stood in the middle of the bridge. The snow muffled the sound of traffic. The water below was starting to freeze. Dave took of the backpack and sit it on the pavement. Then he took off his coat and threw it in the road.

“ I’ll need the extra weight.” he thought as he shivered from the cold. He put the backpack back on and climbed over the side of the bridge and looked down at the cold black water.

He let go of the rail. Clutching the straps of the backpack he stepped off the bridge and fell into the rushing water below.

Dave’s body was found by a crew of city workers later that morning. He was buried in a cemetery for Indigents. He wasn’t missed or even remembered.