Lost Love

There is a very old man in my building who always eats TV dinners by himself. Even though I know nothing about him, I tend to imagine what his story is. I wonder to myself why he is eating what he is. When I do that, I cannot help but think that his wife of many years has passed away and so there is no one to make him home-cooked meals anymore. And perhaps because of his generation, or perhaps because his wife was so good to him, he never learned how to cook. So he eats TV dinners.

Every time I see him slowly walk to the microwave, every time I see him eating by himself at the table, I wonder if he is thinking about his lost love. Perhaps he thinks about his wife every time he eats. Although I feel grief for him, I cannot help but feel just a little bit jealous as well. I feel jealous that he was able to live a life in love with another human being. I feel jealous that someone else was so good to him. I cannot help but want the very same thing.