She's gone. I don't know what to do. For twenty five years she's been by my side. The kids are with mama while I sort things out. After signing papers and talking to doctors and talking to well-meaning friends who just won't go away, I finally manage to break away. On the way home, I notice a bar on the right. I don't drink. Never have. I've only been I. A bar once in my life and that was for the food that was supposed to be some of the best around. I decide to stop.
There's few people inside. Only one guy at the bar and he looks to be half gone. I sit a couple stools down for him. I have no idea what to order, so I order whisky. Seems safe enough.
With the first drink, I realize I've made a mistake. It burns something awful. I cough. I look up to see the other guy at the bar staring at me.
"It gets better."
"Excuse me?"
"It gets better. You jus' have to get used to it."
"I'm not sure I want to get used to it."
"So why're you in here?"
" I've lost someone. I thought it might help." He laughed.
"Yeah. I thought that too once."
"You lost someone?"
"Nah. I didn't lose her. I gave her up."
"Why?"
"People said we were too young. Whole life ahead of us. Go out live a little first."
"That sounds familiar. People said the same to my wife and I. We got married anyway. Our life turned out pretty good, though."
"Tell me about it."
"Well, we struggled a lot early on. Eighteen year olds aren't exactly financially stable. But we made it through. Got through college, gat decent jobs. We had three wonderful children. Now she's gone. Cancer."
"Sorry to hear that. How long were you together?"
"Twenty-five years."
"Huh. That how long it's been since I broke it off with my girl. I joined the marines and left her behind. Never seen her since."
"I'm sorry. I actually considered the marines myself. What brings you here tonight?"
"I'm here every night. War-wounded, honorable discharge. I drink to forget."
"What was her name?"
"Sarah."
"That's my wife's name."
"I know Matt. At least you had the twenty-five years. I never had that."
It was then that I realized that through the thick beard and under the scruffy hat, the stranger bore an uncanny resemblance to me.
"Who are you?"
"Nobody. Only what might have been. Go home Matt. Hug your kids. Be thankful for what you've had...for what you have."