This was the night he was going to propose to her. He opened the box containing the ring and stared at it for a while. A tear ran down the right side of his face. It splattered on the concrete next to his foot. He took out the ring and let the box fall. It wasn’t much, but it reminded him of her. That’s why he got it for her in the first place.
Her memory was still fresh in his mind. He saw her everywhere he went and in everything he looked at. All the places they visited, he couldn’t go back to again. All the movies he watched with her, were no longer the same.
She lost the battle to depression. No. They lost. The night he lost her, he lost everything. It felt now that the depression was now hovering over his head like a dark cloud. It loomed over him. His gaze shifted from the ring to the flowing traffic ten stories below. His instep hung over the edge of the roof. All he had to do was lean forward and it would be over. All the sadness and all the pain. It would all just go away.
He rolled the ring across the tips of his fingers from pinky to thumb and back again. He used to do it with a coin. It was the one thing that he would always do to make her smile. No matter how many times he showed her, the coin would barely make it to the middle finger before falling. Then she’d laugh and snort. Every time. He focused on her smile. Her smile. He smiled then. He could still do that. It had been a while since he actually felt ok.
He thought about the pain he felt when losing her. He remembered that taking his own life would only transfer all his pain onto someone else. He could not do that. He would hold on. He knew that she would want that. He would hold on to the good memories he had of her. He would remember her smile.
He stepped down from the edge. The ring traveled across his fingers one last time. He pocketed it and headed for the door that led to the stairs. He would not be completely better tomorrow, but maybe the day after that. If not then, then maybe the day after that. He would take it one day at a time.