Where did he go wrong, was the only thought on his mind as he walked the chill, empty street. He gave her everything she ever wanted, but it was never enough. He loved her without question and forgave her every indiscretion. She cheated on him constantly and he knew every time; yet he forgave her. She flaunted her infidelity in his face; yet he forgave her.
How did he end up alone on this street, he thought to himself. He gave her everything he had, and than some. He took her to the theater, shopping, and to the hottest clubs. He would spend the night watching her dance with other men; yet as he watched, he forgave her. He loved her. He walked in on her with one of the club-hoppers one night and apologized. I apologized for being cheated on, he berated himself as he leans against a building, feeling the chill bricks cool his skin.
Now what will he do, he silently screamed to himself. She used him and left him empty; hollow. It was that emptiness that she created that brought him to what he did tonight. The gun still felt hot in his hand as it rested against his leg. The barrel felt as if it was burning into his thigh. She did this, he thought, she used me for so long. No reasoning helped him tonight. He loved her. As he raised the gun to his dry mouth, he forgave her. Would she forgive him?
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