South Indian IT Professional

"I hope he lives a long and healthy life, and every time he closes his eyes, he sees you, to remind him of the hell that he's caused." Trust me sweetheart, I do.I'm not sure whom she meant that phrase toward, but, I do know deep down, I'm at least partially, if not wholy, responsible. Never once did I mean to hurt, or neglect you, apparently, I failed miserably. I pay for my failure on a daily, basis, and for hurting you, I'm truly sorry. I'm sorry that I let you down in so very many ways. Not supporting, and caring enough. There were reasons behind it, some of which you knew, others, I'm just learning myself. One of the biggest reasons was the fact that I truly did love you completely, but, couldn't show it to you in the right ways, our circumstances prevented me showing you my love. I know, it's no excuse, I should have found the way to do it properly, but, I was honestly scared. Scared that my situation would get worse, but, more scared that you would actually reject my love,. Alan did the same. They both grinned like school-kids experimenting in the lab with stink bombs, somewhat less aromatic than what they were about to sample. Alan tipped his glass and tasted the whisky, swirling it around his mouth warming his tongue and soothing his throat as he swallowed, leaving a symphonic explosion of tastes and flavours of both warmth and honeyed notes on his taste buds.“Wow!” Alan exclaimed, “That is amazing. Last bottle left, huh?”“Yes, sir.” Henry confirmed, “Less than 600 bottles produced, distilled in 1971, nineteen years before I was even born!”“And I was only six years old then, myself,” Alan laughed.Henry finished his small taster, nodded and smiled his thanks and went back along the bar to serve a customer who had come in from the ballroom, leaving Alan to savour another mellow mouthful on his own.In the virtually deserted bar, with most guests still in the ballroom, Rob, the wedding photographer, entered from the lobby and noticed Alan sitting alone at.
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