Stupid

Ted sat in his parked car, the faint glow of the bar's neon lights casting a subdued ambiance around him. He stared at the entrance of the bar, his thoughts a whirlwind of confusion and regret. The idea of drowning his thoughts in alcohol tempted him, but he hesitated. Just as he was about to make a decision, his phone vibrated, startling him slightly. It was Vivian calling.

As he answered the call and agreed to meet her, a heavy sense of introspection settled over him. He felt a surge of frustration and self-criticism. "Stupid," he muttered under his breath, the word dripping with self-derision. He felt like he had let an important part of his life slip through his fingers.

With a sigh, Ted turned the key in the ignition, starting his car's engine. The quiet rumble of the engine seemed to echo his own inner turmoil. He pulled away from the bar, the neon lights fading in his rearview mirror. The drive to Vivian's house was filled with the rhythmic hum of the road, a backdrop to his co