Search for Meaning

I start looking in the kitchen. I look through the cupboards and above the fridge. I throw everything on the lazy Susan out onto the counter - then I pull the fridge out and look behind it. I move to the living room next; the TV is the first to move to the center of the room. Every inch of the cabinet that the TV sits in is thoroughly examined; empty CD cases and old videos are thrown into a pile revealing nothing. The hallway is bare; the closets never had anything put into them in the first place - I look at their emptiness. The storage room is a lost cause; I ignore it like always. The bathroom yields an old twisty toothbrush behind the garbage under the sink, and hairballs behind the toilet. In my bedroom I search under the bed; I clean there meticulously and often because of my allergies - but you never know; nothing. I pull clothing out of the closet, searching through the pockets as I go; there's a rubber band. Finally I pull out the books and start flipping through the pages, midway through I find an old letter that I was writing to someone that I knew I would never deliver it to; it's a sappy sort of letter exposing the ridiculous feelings I was having at the time. I read the letter over and over again - then I put everything away. Twisty toothbrush, rubber band, and a letter full of true yet sappy sentiments - I call the day a win.