"He gazed up at the starry night sky as he stood there, then continued on walking down the street. The drowsiness from the alcohol he had consumed was there, but it wasn't enough. No matter how dulled his senses would get, his mind was always tormented, poisoned. Tormented by his past, everything he did wrong and everything he didn't accomplish, desires and ambitions left in ruins.
The irrationality, the madness that he heard himself whisper sometimes in moments he could not understand why he allowed to happen, poisoned his soul, and even though he knew that the poison came from the misery of his life, he knew fully well that he was actually a good person, with a long life yet to come. But he felt that taint too well - even in his heart, did he feel a shivering, a pain that did not hurt, but one that reminded him of all the so-called life he had been forced to live, the life he would rather have never lived. For he did not know the value of a life; only the price of one. And that was his suffering.
He looked down on his hand. He held several pills, and in the other, a bottle of alcohol.
He threw it all away."
That, is what I imagined. Whatever you make of the ending, is up to you.