The Meaning of Life According to Kyle Broflovski
A South Park Fanfiction by DizzyAlice

A/N: I haven't been writing a lot of fanfiction lately... Mostly because I'm working on original stuff a lot more, partly because I got sick of it. But I've had this idea for a while, and I've attempted it a few times in the past, but I could never get it quite right. But I finally managed to crank it out today, so I figured I'd share.
Don't expect me to update any of my other fics now or ever, sorry guys.
Style, fluff, one-shot.
Enjoy, and please review!


Men have long pondered those eternal questions: Why are we here? Who put us here? What is our purpose?

In short, what is the meaning of life?

It sounds stupid, but at nights when my anxiety prevents me from sleeping, these are the thoughts that echo in my head as I look into the endless night sky that makes me feel so small and insignificant.

There are an infinite amount of answers, but which one is right?

If you asked me, I would tell you that the meaning of life is to contribute to and further society. Kenny would say that it's to find happiness and have as much sex as possible (which to him are one and the same). Cartman sees it as the gain of power, wealth, and notoriety – be it positive or negative.

But if you ask Stan, as I often do, he will give you a simple, one-word response: Love.

Stan has always been a bit of a romantic, in that he loves easily and strongly. I've had to pull him out of the depths of despair after his heart has been broken far too many times. I don't understand how he could think the pursuit of something so destructive and all-consuming could be life's ultimate quest, but everyone has their own opinions, I guess.

"It's because you've never been in love, Kyle," Stan says with a dreamy look in his eyes. "Trust me. Someday you'll know what it's like."

"If you say so," I agree, but I don't believe it. I've seen the horrible things that love can do to people. It always ends badly, no matter what.

Which is why I don't plan on falling in love. Ever.

Anyways, I have more important things to do with my life. Like pontificate over what it all means. Someday I will figure it out, life's greatest mystery. That will be my contribution to society. And then I can die in peace.

But Stan is firmly determined to prevent me from doing this. "We're young," he says. "The sun is shining, the birds are singing… We should be out enjoying life, not sitting around thinking about it." He proceeds to drag me outside, amidst my many protests.

He takes me to the pond and we skip rocks across the water, smooth as a mirror until our disruptions. I calculate the mass, velocity, angle of trajectory. Stan just flicks his wrist and lets go. His rocks always make it further than mine.

"See," he says as we collapse onto a bench, "Isn't this so much better than sitting holed up in your room all day?"

"Not really, no."

He rolls his eyes, but smiles. "You know, sometimes I really wish you were normal."

"Sometimes I really wish I was, too."

He chuckles and slings an arm across my shoulders. "You're perfect. Absolutely perfect."

My heart starts pounding and I sigh at the familiar feeling. "Stan, what's the point in any of this? It's only going to end badly for one – or both – of us. Why do we even bother?"

"Because the good moments outweigh the bad."

He pulls me to him and presses his lips to mine, recognizable and lovely. In that moment, as he kisses me, I'm willing to believe. I'm willing to believe in the power of love, and I'm willing to believe that maybe I do love Stan enough for the rest to be forgotten. Because maybe there is no solid answer to life. The meaning is to just keep looking.

And with Stan by my side, I'm prepared to do just that.

The End.