A middle-aged man is fumbling on his phone. He’s trying to explain something to his wife but she’s having none of it. She’s willing to forgive him, perhaps desperate to. She merely needs him to apologize. To not only say he is sorry, but to be sorry. She does not think she is asking too much. He does not think she is asking too much.

But he will not apologize.

He cannot apologize.

For he has abandoned his regret.

He puts away his phone. And the band plays...

 

In the Wee Small Hours of the Morning

When your lonely heart has learned its lesson

You’d be hers, if only she would call

In the wee small hours of the morning

That’s when you miss her most of all

 

I’m not ashamed of what I’ve done. I don’t suppose I can be. Once upon a time, perhaps, but that is an avenue no longer open to me. Shame and regret once held so much sway upon my life that I could hardly carry on from one day to the next. Today that is only a sour memory. An interesting story told by others, but which holds no meaning for me. Once upon a time I wished only to abandon those feelings. Abandon my shame and regret. Once Upon a time I thought doing so would ease my troubled mind. tend to my withering soul. Once I upon I time I was wrong.

So be it.

 

They let me in without question. Without payment. They said there was no cost.

There is, of course. They just don’t collect it at the door. This place...They’re not what they...They take their cut. They always take their cut. There is no question about that. And the cost is high. Higher than...

But payment is deferred until later. Until after...Until it’s too late. And refunds are not...

Well...There are no refunds.

In my before life – my life before this place, I had done many things I was ashamed of. Shame was my defining trait. I lived a life awash in regret, always sure I had made the wrong choice. Had given up too soon, or jumped in without enough consideration, or thought of myself before others, or not thought of myself enough. Always I was sure that if only I could go back and undo my mistakes, my life would be better. I would crawl under my covers and stew over what I was sure I had done wrong. Imagine how conversations might have gone, if only I had spoken more wisely. If only...

Those are words I no longer say in earnest. If only. The two most dangerous words in our language.Or so he says.

Well, there’s nothing for it now, I suppose. That was my before life, a life where I would lay away in the middle of the night, rethinking every choice I had ever made. Tossing and turning with regret. That life is gone. And so is he.

So be it.

 

 

After stewing in my own juices one too many times, after one too many sleepless nights, after a lifetime of burying myself in shame, steeping in my regret until it nearly broke me altogether,  I came here, like so many do when they have lost all hope. I came here to abandon my regret. To be done with it once and for all.

I came here expecting to face an unnamable thing, to be led down to the catacombs where I would fight a monster or demon, or some other such garbage. I never even made it that far. I still have not seen more of this place than this bar. If the catacombs even exist, I have not seen them.

 

He orders a second cocktail, a simple drink, not even a proper Manhattan. Just rye on ice with a dash of bitters.

It was to this very stool they led me. And he was in yours, waiting for me.

The bartender smiles knowingly at the two of us.

“I told him how i had just been kicked out of my own house by my wife. How I had once again failed to keep a job long enough to cover the car payment, let alone the mortgage. How my careless words had once gain ruined my life. How if I had only taken more time, more care, I might still have the life I cherished.

‘If only you had bothered to think before you spoke, eh?’ he said to me.

“Yes, yes, my friend, I answered. ‘That’s exactly it!’

When he replied, it was quietly, almost as a whisper in my ear, though withoutintimacy.No soft breeze blew across my ear, though his words came as an timate whisper.‘If only you had cared more.’ I Nodded. ‘If only you had thought of her before you told off your boss.’ I nodded again. ‘If only you had thought of someone beside yourself for once.’

“I could feel my face falling toward the bar. Could feel the weight of my skull as I softly banged it upon the bar in my shame.” ‘You understand, my friend, ‘ I said to him.

‘I do, Friend, I do. ‘If only you had not fallen for her to begin with. If only you had been stronger. ‘If you only you left her the first time, when you had the courage.’

“I stared at him as I sipped on my rye. ‘Who are you? I asked.”

“He smiled and stared back at me before answering, ‘ If only you’d tried harder, eh? ‘ If only you’d given it one more shot before giving up and coming here. ‘If only you had the least bit of courage.’

“He was right, of course, but it did not make his words any easier to hear. ‘How dare you, In early shouted.

“He said only, ‘ I dare as I choose. I say what I mean. At least I don’t cower into a cocktail at the least bit of adversity. At least my wife lets me stay in the house when I choose. At least my boss keeps my paychecks coming At least I have pride in myself. In my choices. At least I’m not a craven fool.’

“That was all it took for me. I took my drink and threw it in his face.”

‘A bold move,’ he said at that, as he wiped his face with a cocktail napkin and stood. ‘If you don’t want my advice, I have no need to stay and be insulted by you.’

‘By me?! It is you who insult me, sir. Drag your sorry self out of her before I do it for you, “ I shouted.” I feared a fist fight was imminent, but he simply brushed what little of my drink remained off his jacket and walked out the door.

I looked about for help with my original purpose. Was there a stairway I was to find? Was there a host to take me somewhere I might abandon my regret? Where were rthese infamous catacombs?Had I spoiled my chance by arguing with the stranger? In that moment, I cared not at all. In my remaining anger, I simply left the bar as well, no longer caring for my quest.I walked home, now much later than I was expected, though I was not concerned. I knew my wife would be angry with me, but there was nothing for it. That ship had sailed, so to speak.Time was unchangeable; This much I knew. There was no going back and undoing what I had done. I thought of the stranger, no longer angry with what he said. I wondered if I should have punched him, but only thought that I was better off. I wondered if I had wasted my evening, angered my wife for no reason, If Ishould have searched harder to abandon my regret before giving up, but there hardly seemed to be anything to be done about that now. I could go back, or I could go home. The stranger was gone and so was I. There was nothing left to do but accept my fate.I did go back, briefly,in a moment of desperation, but the place was closed for the night.  ‘So it goes, ‘ I said to myself. ‘I can some back some other time.’

“When I got home and my wife was predictably angry with me, I was not sorry. That only made my wife angrier,  of course. At my former workplace, when I asked for my job back, I wasn’t sorry. When my former boss asked me about that, I told him so. He told me to leave for good, and so I did. Being sorry was no longer something I was capable of . This place stole that from me.When that stranger left, he took with him my ability to feel shame. To feelregret. This place let me abandon my regret after all, though I’m not sure I’m better without it.  So be it.”