i have lost everything in gambling
The Empty Chair at the TableThe worn leather chair creaked as I sank into it, the familiar scent of stale cigarettes and desperation clinging to the air. It was my chair, the one I used to claim with a swagger, a king in my own right, ruling over the green felt battlefield. But now, it felt like a throne stripped bare, a mockery of the life I once held.I had lost everything in gambling. Everything. The savings, the house, the car, even the meager possessions I held dear. My wife left, taking our kids with her, their laughter echoing in the emptiness of my soul. The friends who used to toast with me now crossed the street, avoiding my hollow eyes and the shame etched on my face.There was a time when the thrill of the spin, the anticipation of the cards, the rush of winning, consumed me. It was a world of adrenaline and fleeting joy, where the stakes seemed endless and my ambition boundless. But the tide turned, the wins grew smaller, the losses mounted, and the hole I dug became a gaping chasm. Now, I sat in this lonely chair, the ghost of my former self, haunted by the whispers of what could have been. The thrill was gone, replaced by the bitter sting of defeat. The joy, replaced by a gnawing emptiness. The ambition, replaced by the weight of regret.The dealers voice, once a siren song, now seemed like a cruel reminder of my fall. The chips, once symbols of power, now felt like shards of my shattered life. The table, once a stage for my triumphs, now mirrored the wasteland I had created. I looked up at the flickering neon sign above the casino, the promise of fortune a taunting mirage. I had lost everything in gambling, but the worst part was, I had lost myself.