Autumn

40: When she left

Theodore felt like he was underwater. 

His movements felt heavy and slow, requiring a lot more effort than he unfortunately had. It was like he was constantly holding his breath and every second that trickled by made his chest ache more. He was suffocating. 

And he was only getting deeper.

Theodore did his best to keep busy. He asked for more shifts at the supermarket and was happy to take on the extra work during late night shopping. He stayed back in the school library to do revision and practice papers, which made his brain hurt, but it was a grateful distraction. He silently moved around the house and helped Helen clean and cook.

Doing things helped keep his mind off how much he was hurting. But although he tried to keep occupied, there would always be a moment where he got tired and his mind would naturally wander to a place he didn't want to go.

After Theodore had taken the bins out, he dropped down on the front doorstep. It was a crisp night, so as the wind snaked around the exposed parts of his wrists and wound their way under the thin cotton of his shirt, it was enough to make his body convulse in shivers. Although the evening had a frosty tone to this particular early spring melody, Theodore didn't mind. He simply drew his knees close to his chest and wrapped his arms around himself.

The neighbourhood was quiet. The surrounding houses had their televisions turned down, there were no bickering children out on the lawns, not a moving vehicle in sight. Even old Mrs. Ghathary's Pomeranian who was infamous for her feisty little snarl was cooped up somewhere safe and sound. 

It was so quiet that Theodore was left with nothing but his thoughts.

A dangerous place to visit late at night. 

His mind was a maze of forbidden thoughts, mischievous memories, frightening ideas, and dark nightmares. Every turn had an unexpected surprise; trap doors leading to painful recollections or almost-bursting chests that could barely contain his restrained, fearfully-intense emotions. 

She was all he could think about.

Autumn.

Autumn.

Something clawed its way from Theodore's chest and lodged itself in his throat. Was it a cry? A yell? His dinner? He wasn't sure. He swallowed it down and the feeling sunk right into his stomach and settled itself heavily in the lining. Theodore reached up and used his frosty fingers to wipe away the tears that were rolling down his stinging cheeks. 

He took three deep breaths.

One for his lungs.

One for his heart.

One for his mind. 

He tried thinking of Autumn as though she were the season; a beautiful but temporary burst of time where his life was filled with colour. Autumn has a a key characteristic though, and that's when the leaves fall down. Slowly but surely, crunchy, dry leaves scatter the ground until the trees are merely naked skeletons.

Autumn eventually comes to an end.

And Theodore just has to brace for an exceptionally chilly winter.

With that in mind, he exited the labyrinth of his mind and headed back inside where a cup of tea would temporarily warm the fragments of his frozen, broken heart.