Tuure has never slept past noon in his life, even in his early teenage years when all he wanted to do was sleep in. He knew that he had to organize his schedule properly and not be lazy if he was going to be in the National Hockey League one day.
On August 18, 2005, Tuure finally climbed out of bed at 2:06 in the afternoon.
Too late, he grumbled to himself as he forced himself out of the comfort of his blankets. Way too late. I'm a bum.
His mother always told him not to be lazy when he was a teenager who loved to sleep. She'd remind him that he had homework that he wouldn't be able to do if he was only awake for a third of the day.
He was an adult now, no longer required to follow his mother's rules, but he still had standards. Tuure didn't even want to imagine what Anja would think of him if she saw him still in his pajamas two hours past noon.
Tuure sighed as he remembered the whole reason why he'd slept in anyway. Every day that passed was another cruel reminder that the love of his life had left him alone in Boston.
She said it was for the best, that her family emergency would ruin his career. She hugged him before she left and cooked dinner for him. On the day that she left, she spent a long time making an effort to soothe his broken heart.
Still, Tuure had a lot of nightmares in which Anja, his ex-girlfriend, reminded him of all the things that caused his low self-esteem and told him that they were the reasons why she left him. His autism, his insecurity, his anxiety, his depression, his looks, his weaknesses at the game of hockey, and his social awkwardness. She said that something was wrong with him.
She called him a broken person.
Tuure knew that this Anja was not real, but he still hated seeing her. He never wanted to fall asleep again if all he saw at night was her listing everything wrong with him.
Tuure went to sleep early every night anyway, because he didn't want the people around him to notice that anything was wrong. He hated when people intruded on his life, even though he knew very well that they were trying to help him and make him into a better person. He just wasn't ready to be bothered about his mental health yet.
He scrubbed his eyes and looked at himself in the mirror. His dark curly hair was still a mess, and even he noticed that his eyes had no light in them. He could almost see his bones thanks to the weight loss that the stress and depression had provided for him.
Tuure sighed, walking into the bathroom and preparing to take a shower. He knew that he was a complete mess, and here he was doing the bare minimum to fix everything.
Anja would shake her head at him and tell him to put some meat on his bones before he passed out.
He climbed into the shower and tried to stop thinking about her. She was gone, and it would only make Tuure more depressed if he continued to wish that she was with him still.
Anja would stay up all day and night with him, talking to him in her comforting voice until he was okay again.
Tuure dried his soaked hair and quickly changed into his outfit that he had picked out for that day. He walked into the kitchen and grabbed a plate, deciding to attempt to make himself some sort of lunch.
Anja would cook the most delicious Finnish meal for him and tell him to eat up before it got cold.
The young goalie shrieked and threw his plate at the wall before he knew exactly what he was doing. When it smashed to pieces upon impact, Tuure just stood there and stared for a moment before sliding down the wall and burying his face in his knees.
He needed to go see a therapist or something. Anything to get the crippling feelings of loneliness and anger to go away.
Tuure sighed and decided to force himself to stand and fetch a broom so he could clean up his own mess. As he swept the shattered porcelain into a dustpan, he walked over to his computer and turned on some calming music. Maybe that would calm him down.
The music did work to some effect, but he was still upset. After all, music couldn't bring the love of his life back.
Tuure finished cleaning up the plate in a couple of minutes. He was walking to the trash can to dispose of the pieces of the plate when he spotted something on the kitchen counter.
It was a necklace with a small key charm on it.
Tuure reached over and picked the necklace up, examining the charm as he felt it with his fingers. He knew what this was. It was the "key" to Anja's heart, an anniversary gift that she'd gotten for him when they were fifteen. She'd bought one for herself as well, claiming that it was the key to Tuure's heart.
They had worn the necklaces every day when they were together. When Anja was leaving, Tuure expected her to take her necklace off and give it to him, but she didn't. She explained that if it was the better choice, she would've stayed with Tuure. Anja kept her necklace, claiming that she would always love Tuure.
Tuure stared at his own necklace as it sat there in his hands, remembering how the events played out. After a few seconds, he undid the clasp and lifted it up to his neck, refastening the clasp when the necklace was resting against his shirt.
Anja still loved him, and he still loved her.
Once Tuure had finished cleaning up the mess made from the dish, he went over to his computer and opened his email.
Tuure checked his email every day and deleted the ones he didn't need. He had a list of favorite chats from years before, and he wanted to keep those at the top of his inbox.
He'd been scrolling for about two minutes when he found what he was looking for.
From: heikkenena@excite.com
To: tuure1987@excite.com
Date: Tuesday, June 15, 1999Tuure sighed.
He couldn't bring Anja back, but he could at least keep her with him in his memory.
YOU ARE READING
The Sweetest Save
General FictionTuure Raskinen, star goaltender for the Toronto Maple Leafs, loved hockey since the first step he took on the ice. The goaltender was raised in the city of Dubrovnik in Croatia after his family moved from Savonlinna, Finland, when Tuure was three. ...