The Last Laugh


People have preferences for other people like they do for their choice of alcohol.
Some prefer light beer, some like strong whiskey.
I became your choice of alcohol for a while. You found comfort in my company, enough to make you confide in me. I was available at every call and I soaked in your sorrow when you wanted me to. You shared your happiness with me, and I was more than happy to be a part of it.
But you wanted more. You got used to the effect of your drink, so you wanted more. But I was the drink, I didn’t change. And you didn’t like that.
You snapped.
You realized you can’t become an alcoholic – you cannot be dependent on me.
Because I may just lead you to your destruction.
So you left drinking, you left me.
I wasn’t your preferred brand of alcohol anymore.
Now you go around telling people I am responsible for the damage you did to yourself.
But guess what?
Label me what you want, I know, as well as you do, that you chose me to be your drink. Not the other way round.
So your destruction is on your hands. Not mine.
As for leaving me is concerned, I am still someone’s preferred choice of alcohol, someone still confides in me and finds comfort in my company.
So who is having the last laugh, huh?

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