The bar

Dim lights, empty glasses with rocks in them, melting away with different topics... 
I hear these words, "So, three rejections? That must hurt bro!"

One of them noticed the smirk on my face from the opposite end of the bar. 

"You think this is funny?"

"Any sorta hurt is bad. I think the guilt of not been able to love back true love is far more hurtful...."

The smirk didn't annoy anymore. The old scotch wasn't strong anymore. 

The stranger was long gone. We both were scrolling through our mobiles for those forgotten contacts. 
The bar, the stranger... started a chain reaction of beautiful thoughts and long-lost memories.