It's always the alcohol that does me in. Not the synthol crap that Quark serves the masses, but the genuine kanar that he keeps behind the counter. It seems I developed a taste for it during the occupation. Ironic.
I drink to forget Odo, then I remember *her*, and before long I'm either pounding on her door in the early hours of the morning or comm-ing her from my quarters. She's never once said no.
Afterwards I can't look at her for days, hating myself, what I've become. Eventually I'm back at Quark's.
You'd think I'd know not to drink.