In a life full of uncertainty and confusion, there was always something that I knew was for sure; I loved my wife. I also knew that she loved me just the same. I can say without a doubt that she was my soul mate. We were perfect for each other. She knew what I was thinking just by the look on my face. She could put a smile on my face just by coming into the room. So when I began to have different feelings towards her, it really worried me.
She was literally my everything. I couldnt live without her. But one day things just started changing. I began to act different around her. The things she used to do that I had loved now started to get on my nerves. Her voice alone angered me. I was repulsed by her touch. I couldnt stand to be in the same room with her let alone hold a conversation. Before these "changes" started occuring, we had been trying to have a kid. I was so excited.
When she threatened to leave me, I honostly tried to get my old self back. I missed the way things used to be; I missed loving her. But I just couldnt do it. Things just got worse. She moved out to her mothers. I began to drink heavily and rarely left the apartment for anything not related to food or more alcohol. Soon I lost my job as the head chef at a pretty prestigious restaurant downtown. From there I really lost all sensibilty that I had left.
I hadnt talked to my wife since she had left me almost three weeks ago. The worst part was getting served divorce papers by some little prick right on my doorstep. I couldnt think straight after that. Hell if I wasnt passed out, I was sobbing uncontrollably. I just didnt understand what was happening to my mind, my thoughts, everything was different.
I had given up. I figured a sweet release would be better than wallowing in my tears and anger. I looked out the window and watched the last sunset I would ever witness. The red sun soon faded into the horizon. I always loved symbolism. That was something I could always do well in high school and college; use symbolism in my writing. As the last glimmer of light escaped through my window I placed my little pistol to my temple and pulled the trigger.
There was no tunnel or white light. Strangely enough, just a still image of Edward Norton.
When I awoke in a hospital bed I was a little skeptical about what I was really seeing. There was my beautiful wife, carressing my hand and staring deeply into my now tear-filled eyes. Before passing out again I was able to mutter a sloppy "I love you".
When I awoke a second time, I was worried my previous encounter was just a dream. But sure enough, there she was again. And this time she was joined by a young doctor. He asked if I knew where I was and went on to enquire about how conscious I was. I finally convinced him I was wide awake and alive. He explained that had I not shot myself, the cancerous tumor in the frontal lobe of my brain would have never been discovered.
Turns out, in the split second between the bullet leaving the barrel of the gun and penatrating my skull, I had flinched. When I pulled the trigger, I moved my hand and head so that the gun was angled at the top northern-most part of my brain. The bullet skimmed the edge of my skull, leaving just a deep laserasion in my forhead. The tumor had completely altered my personality.
The cancer was removed without any complications and never returned. After I got home from the hospital, I realized I never took back my rented dvd of Fight Club. I told my wife I was going to take a quick trip over to the Blockbuster, since it was just a few miles away. She objected considering I had just got out of surgery, but soon offered just to take me in her car. She promised me some Cold Stone Creamery if I just let her drive, so I graciously accepted. We dropped the movie off and made our way to our next destination.
As we pulled out of the parking lot, I told her stop the car. I pointed towards the sunset. She then willingly pulled over into a vacant lot. It was a beautiful sunset. The sun was a deep red and casted firey shadows on the huge grey clouds. We got out of the car and sat on the hood. As the last glimmer of light escaped the horizon, she looked at me and whispered, "I missed you."