Sunday, May 1, 2011

Cosmonaut

He had always loved his wife, but the distance between them had grown vast and perilous. The key word was 'wife;' he had not loved her nearly so often before then. They had their ups and downs, and he questioned the whole thing on many occasions. Did they stay together because it was easier? Had the tensions ultimately made them feel more attached to one another? Now, however, he loved his wife. Of course, the word love was utterly meaningless to him. He felt many different things - comfort, happiness, passion, attraction - but he could put names to all of them, and didn't feel the need to call any one of them love. Perhaps, he wondered, the combination of all of them was love. On some nights, he wondered if there wasn't another emotion, and he was simply incapable of feeling it.

He stared up at the sky, wondering what it was like to float through the vast emptiness of space and contemplate only the stars.

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