Pining

The cigarette was still burning in the ashtray. He was standing near the window looking out at the stars. It was a lonely mansion at the top of the mountain, surrounded by a forest and at present covered with snow. He missed her. They used to come to this place every winter the the four years they had been together. Now, she was outside the country and he was alone, it didn't work out from her side. He had never trusted women in his life except his mother and then came her and it was like a dream, at least the four years they were together, and now he was alone at the family mansion his grandfather had bought when he was just a kid. He was alone in the mansion and trapped for at least a fortnight because of the snow, but since he had gotten all the supplies when he came, there was not much to worry. In the day he would drink coffee and read books, and at night he would gaze at the stars, sometimes missing her. There was this intense longing for her. The way she would snatch the cigarette from his mouth and smoke it her self. The way she would force him to get out of bed and make her coffee. The snow laden trees which would look bright and dull in the day would shine like radium in the moonlight at night. And here was he looking at the stars alone. He went inside, picked another cigarette from the pack and lit it. The electric fireplace had kept the room warm and filled with a yellowish glow. He was pining for her, but he was not feeling alone. He had no reason to feel alone, he liked it alone. Out here at the lonely mansion at the mountain top, under the countless stars it felt like he was alone in the universe. For some this thought might be frightening, not for him. He had entertained the idea of being alone in the universe before, at the same place. He just needed coffee and cigarettes, and her, but since she was not here anymore, just coffee and cigarettes. He wondered how people got cabin fever, he actually liked being trapped for days together in this house. He took a puff of his cigarette and looked at the a bright star in the sky. He played again with the idea of being all alone in the universe. This time not even thinking about her. Very narcissistic he thought, but then she had sailed away for better prospects, better prospects than being with him in the sheets and smoking cigarettes in a room yellowed and warmed by a fireplace in a quaint mansion atop a mountain. It's nobody's fault, and he knew that, and it's not his fault that his heart still pines for her. He went back to the idea of being all alone the universe. A scientific Adam, without an Eve. He never knew that an existential horror could be such a comforting idea. But at present, in the lonely mansion atop a snow covered mountain top surrounded by a forest, it was.