Sad story... happy ending

As he walked to his apartment waves of sadness ran over him. He had lost another job. As he walked in to his apartment he was greeted warmly by his wife, but as his eyes scanned her pregnant belly he felt ashamed and like a complete and utter failure. She scanned his face and almost automatically knew what had happened but as she went to console him he ran from her into the bedroom and after 2 minutes he returned his only words being "I'm going...out". As the door slammed she simply sat down and cried.

He walked through his brooklyn neighborhood and grimaced at all he saw: graffiti, crime, and filth. "22 years old and this is what I've acomplished? I'm a failure" he said to himself as he returned to his apartment building. He went up to the roof of the small 3-story slum and grasped what he had taken from the bedroom in his hand. It was a pistol. He had bought it for protection when his wife first got pregnant...this memory only made him feel worse, because she had a miscarrage which he blammed on himself for smoking. He sat down, folded his legs, and just stared at the gun like some sort of sick meditation. His breathing got heavier as he reached for the gun. The gun was as black as death and felt emotionless and cold. His heart beated slowly like a drummer for a death march as he raised the gun and inserted it into his mouth. 2 hours passed as he sat there staring death in the face, until he finally pulled the.........................................................................................................gun...out of his mouth and placed it back in his pocket. He stood up, turned around, and went back to the 2nd floor to his apartment. As he opened the door his wife sat at the table staring at him. He was pale and emotionless in his appearance. He started walking towards her with one hand in his pocket gripping the loade gun, and then he simply flicked the safety on and tossed the gun on the table. She looked down at the gun and nearly vomited in disgust of what he must have been tryimg to do while he was out. She stood up and dived towards him wrapping her arms around him and digging her face into his chest. He stared coldly up at the fluorescent light ignoring her embrace. His trance-like state was broken though by a small movement coming from his wife's stomach. It was his child, it had kicked. He looked next at her face how she turned her head from side to side not in a pleading motion but instead in a burrowing motion as if she was trying to dig down, dig down deep into his very soul and insert some of her very life essesence into him. His hard emotionless face was shattered as he began to cry because he realized how if he had committed suicide he would be hurting her and his unborn child. She hugged him tighter and said in a calming sweet voice "It'll be alright, It'll be alright, You're safe now" which only made him cry heavier. She walked him into the bedroom and they lay together in bed with their arms wrapped around one another. He felt so warm and comfortable now, it was a warmness he hadn't flet since he first was dating her. It was love.

As they layed together in their bed, even though all of New York City lay outside, it was if they were alone, completely alone....
Alone in the city...
Alone in the planet...
Alone in the universe...
but none of that really mattered...
Because they were alone
Together....