The one thing he didn’t want to survive through the fire survived it. As he walked through the ash and fumbled through his singed belongings he saw something golden shine up between the destruction. He reached down to grab what he had saw… his wedding ring. Enraged he threw it as far as he could with all of his might. All he wanted to do was get past this. Maybe start a new life but however hard he tried he couldn’t escape his past life, that he shared with his past wife.

“After 24 years of marriage she decided to up and leave me for some bartender named phil so they could travel the world to see the exotic destinations”, he said to himself sarcastically.
Starting the fire was his way of coping , his way of trying to start a new life the best way he knew how, by destroying his old one. With that he sat down on the ashen ruble he used to call his house and wondered, where to next?
He felt worthless. like no one in the entire world wanted or cared about him. He got up from his spot in the destruction and walked down the street. He kept walking and walking hoping mybe if he went far enough his problems would just simply, fall behind. He finally reached a dead end where he decided to sit down indian style and read the note he had been carrying in the back pocket of his jeans. It read:

“Dear stan,
I know you’ll be angry but hopefully you’ll understand. We don’t have much to offer each other anymore. And instead of making this long and painful ill keep it short. I’ve found someone else. I hope you’ll be able to do the same.
Regards,
Regina”

Reading that bought so much anger and frustration to stans heart and couldn’t help but to rip it into shreds and watch it blow in the wind. There goes the final part of his old life and he was ready to start a new one. Standing up from his position in the street and looked around and thought to himself , life is what you make it.