The Meaning In My Life

“Do you love her?” Robert asked.

“Oh yes,” John mused, his eyes looking up into the empty air as the image of her filled his thoughts.

“Why?”

“She is beautiful and smart and loving, and patient of me. I drive people crazy sometimes.”

“Yeah, sometimes,” Robert droned.

“She makes me so happy,” he said. “Seeing her or just her picture or even reading an old text brings a smile to my face when I am feeling miserable. I think about her all the time. She’s in my thoughts at the end of the day, and the first thing I think of when I wake up. She puts meaning into my life.”

There was a knock at the door. John snapped his head to look over at the door so quickly that he should have injured himself. His eyes were wide open and wild with fear as he hopped out of the chair, desperately looking around the room.

“John?” a woman’s voice called through the door.

The man in the tuxedo darted over to the bifold doors of the closet and opened them up. He turned around and backed into the closet, closing the two doors behind him.

“What’s the problem then?” Robert shrugged.

After a long moment of silence, John said through the closet doors, “Too much responsibility.”

When there was another knock on the door, he opened the doors back up again, stuck out his head, and whispered to Robert, “If anyone asks, I’m not here.” He nodded, then quietly shut the doors again.

Robert sighed and stood up, also in a tuxedo. “I didn’t sign up for this,” he mumbled, pulling a wedding ring out of his inside coat pocket and leaving it on the coffee table before unceremoniously climbing out of the window and escaping.


***

298 words