Over the edge

He stood on the balcony, a cigarette in one hand and a lighter in the other. He lit it and took a long drag.

It won't  hurt.

Even if it does no one cares, not anymore.

For the millionth time, he remembered all he had lost.

His friends.

His family.

His son.

That was what happened when he became too greedy.

He chose fame, money  and reputation over the people who loved him.

He cared more about people who showered him with praises over the ones who genuinely loved him.

Why couldn't he have seen it before?

Why did he always have to be so insensitive to how others felt?

Now here he was, standing on his balcony, all alone, on his birthday, the world going on without a care about him.

He felt old.

But he was not.

He was only thirty two.

He missed his lover.

He missed  his child.

He missed  his friends.

But he knew they didn't miss him.

Why would they?

He was a selfish prick who had treated them awfully.

He took the last puff of the cigarette and flicked it over the edge.

A hollow laugh escaped his lips.

Maybe that was what he should do.

Flick himself over the edge.

Maybe then the world would be at peace. Maybe then , his friends would be happy.  His family would be finally happy. And that's what he wanted. To make them happy again.

To see the smiles he had wiped  off their  faces come back. To see them cherish life and make happy memories.

He took another cigarette  and lit it.  He took a long puff. 

He recounted all the mistakes  he had done .

All the wrong decisions he had made.

Funny how one's life could change in two years.

Taking another drag and reminisced the old days.