Alone.

He opened the door slowly, as if wrestling in his mind if he really wanted to go in. Did he? Did the emptiness behind that hard, oak door really matter that much to him? Not really, but he had nowhere else to go.

He was a tall man who carried a considerable heft on him. Not heft that appeared as fat, but more as thick muscle. He looked like he would have been a linebacker in the NFL 30 years ago, before the weight of the world wore him down.

His black, piercing eyes scanned the inside of the house as he slowly crept in. He scanned the inside of the room like he was an FBI agent trying to clear it. The stuffiness hit him like a ton of bricks and he thought about the days when that house was filled with the laughter of a newly married couple.

His wife had abandoned him years ago. He had loved her and given her everything she asked for in the world. He would have walked to the end of the earth on burning coals if she wanted him to. He put her above all others, but she treated him like a speck of dust. She had never really loved him and only married him for the security he provided her. It crushed his soul like a wrecking ball when he found out she had been cheating on him with the gardener.

He returned home one day to find all of her stuff gone. There wasn’t anything in the house that proves that she had ever been there. If he hadn’t known better, he would swear she had never existed. Like a ghost in the middle of the night, she vanished without a trace. He hadn’t heard from her in sixteen years, but not a day goes by when he doesn’t think about her. Though she may have used him, he still loved her. If only she could have seen what he really had to offer her.

He had no children. Though he wanted to start a family, his wife was always too busy or it wasn’t the right time for her. Though that was his one goal in life, to have a nice big family, he respected her wishes because he cared for her so deeply. But now he was like a flower growing in the desert, alone and slowly dying. Everyday wasn’t another day to live; it was just another day until he dies.

As he stepped completely into the house, the weight of the world appeared to be on his shoulders. He was hunched down like he just got finished running a marathon and he was struggling to catch his breath. He moved towards the bedroom with anticipation in his eyes, like a kid on Christmas morning.

He looked in the bedroom as he did every time he came home, just to see if she had returned. And like every time he had previously looked, he was the only one in the house. Nothing changed, but he hadn’t given up hope.

He trudged over to the nightstand in the bedroom. He looked down at the worn stand and paused for a minute. He let the feelings of rejection and regret wash over him. He cradled his head in his hands and rubbed his eyes like he had just awoken from a deep sleep. He took his hands away from his face and his shoulders slumped noticeably.

He slowly reached for the drawer and carefully opened it. He reached in and cautiously pulled out the Colt 45 he kept in the house for protection. She had always thought they needed to protect themselves and he would do anything to oblige her. So, there he stood with the gun to protect her but with no her to protect. He turned around and gradually headed out of the bedroom.

He plopped down on the sofa and flipped the TV on. Since he had retired two years ago, this was his daily routine. He would get up in the morning, go for a short walk to the park and watch the kids play on the swings. Then, realizing his family wasn’t meant to be right now, he would return home, in hopes that she had come back while he was out. When she wasn’t there, he would get a defeated look on his face, and plunk down in front of the TV. He would watch for hours, not really caring what was on.

He hadn’t had any human interaction in four months. He had his groceries delivered to his house, just so he wouldn’t have to see anyone. Judge Judy and Montell Williams were the only friends he had left now.

He looked down into his lap and the light glinted off the steel in his hand. He could feel all the power the gun possessed creep throughout his body. He cradled the gun like a mother would cradle her new born child.

While staring down at the weapon, he took a deep breath. He gracefully moved his head from side to side. He knew exactly what was coming next.

His gaze slowly moved up until he was staring straight ahead in the mirror. He barely recognized the face staring back at him. He had always been a handsome man, with the rugged good looks that most women could not resist. But not today. He hadn’t shaved in five weeks or gotten his hair cut in over a year. It looked like a yeti was staring back at him. Which is just how he wanted it. He didn’t want to recognize himself. If it wasn’t him there, the pain he felt couldn’t be there either.

His head cocked to the side and he slowly nodded to himself. Then a small smile crept onto his face, like he was in on a little inside joke. His gaze slowly moved towards the heavens above.

He stared straight up for seconds, waiting for a sign. He closed his eyes and his breathing became calm and relaxed. While only ten seconds passed, it felt like ten hours had.

He opened up his eyes. He knew the time had come. He was completely at peace and nothing was going to change his mind. He straightened his posture and slowly looked back down towards the gun cradled in his hands.

He didn’t know how his life had come to this but it had. He always wanted to be in control of everything. And now, he held control of his own destiny in the palm of his hand.

He slowly cocked the hammer back and squeezed his eyes as tight as they would go. An even greater calm came over him as he raised the weapon. He carefully placed the barrel squarely against his right temple. The steel on his head felt like ice. He took a deep breath. And another. His heart quickly skipped a beat. Then it returned to its normal pattern. His right hand tensed up like a batter about to take a swing.

He started to ease the trigger back, taking his time, savoring the experience. He’d known this day was coming for many years. Finally, everything was perfect and he pulled the trigger all the way through.

Click!

Dead silence.

He left the barrel of the gun linger against his temple. The iciness of the barrel was slowly warming up with the heat of his body. He slowly put the gun back down into his lap. He looked at himself again in the mirror. The slight smile was still there, but you could see the pain behind his eyes was more pronounced.

He put his left hand down on the couch to brace himself and he slowly got up to return the gun to the dresser drawer in the bedroom.