Our Autumn

Ah, metaphors.

Is it normal not to be able to forget your first love? I hope so, because he’s stuck fast in my memory. I walked in the cold yesterday just thinking about him. I was actually out in the cold so I could forget him. It’s funny how things work out.

 

The leaves made me think about him and our relationship. As I walked, I watched my feet crush those dry leaves and break their fragile bodies. I pondered that once, they were something beautiful. Once, they were full of life and glowing a vibrant orange. They had to die, though. The cold killed them like it always does. The cold heaved a great sigh over them and those beautiful young things just shriveled up and died. I felt sympathy for them, and at first, I didn’t know why. It’s not like I could have done anything for them. I couldn’t stop winter from coming.

 

And then I realized; I felt sympathy because I am one of those shriveled leaves. Once upon a time, I was brimming with life and love. I was the girl who laughed and told stories; I was the girl who sang in the shower and smiled to myself at night in bed as I thought about that one person who made me feel like I was glowing. With him in my life, I felt complete. He was that little touch of vibrant yellow on the red leaf that made it shine.

 

But after a while, the air between us started to get colder. Our vibrancy started to fade. A little bit of brown started to curl the edges of our relationship. He was different; he was thinking about us. I could tell. There was a new strain in his voice. I knew our winter was coming.

 

He killed me one day. He opened his mouth and out came those chilling cold words that ended us. I shriveled up and fell to the ground, just like those leaves. There I lay, vulnerable to the wind and the cold air. I got trampled and crushed, and my heart broke. My color had gone, and so had my life. I was broken; crushed; dead.

 

My spring will come. I know that someday, warm winds will revive me and bring color back into me. I know I will soon be that laughing, singing, story-telling girl. I’ll move on; I know I will. But it’s hard. He was my first love, and my first heartbreak. And even though he took away my color and left me lifeless on the ground, I can’t forget him. Even though he broke me, he gave me life, too, once upon a time. Someday, I’ll look back on my melancholy and laugh. But for now, I think I’ll just curl up with my blanket of memories. It’ll keep me warm until winter is over.

 

Reviews

[Peteypie]

incredible comparison. you dont get trite or boring and you remain constant with your comparison. I feel if u added anymore detail it would distract me and so its perfect in itself. YAY. I enjoyed this a lot. I have nothing to say cuz most of the time i am ready to rip people apart but its stellar. If i had a cookie id give it to u

[Looouise]

That was really good.
I liked the constant metaphorical analogy ?

I'm sure there's a term for that.

Anywho.
I loved it.

[Cherry Chapstick]

Great job, Erin

[Creepy Swine Guy]

"The cold heaved a great sigh over them and those beautiful young things just shriveled up and died."

What fabulous writing. That is so chillingly descriptive.

Say, did you happen to notice the dead seed pods too? They are down there to and ya know what? They grow into strong, mighty trees one day. But they had to shrivel up and fall to ground and be crushed underfoot first.

Just the observations of some old guy. Best wishes young lady.

[Scott Free]

Bravo! This is great!
I want to know...did you just go walking one day and see these leaves on the ground and think up that metaphor? You're really talented. It was a great read.
Hope you aren't wishing for any criticisms, because for once I am out of them...sorry.
Great job.

[hhoosh]

This is phenomenal.

I guess I'll start with the literary stance. Everything about this is perfect for a short narrative. You don't blow it up with unnessecary details or cliche similes. You keep right on theme, which is the reflection of autumn upon yourself. Sure, it has been done over a billion times, but your tale is very unique and extremely individual, which, for writing, is exactly what is needed.

And, from the reader stance, I can say I completely relate. I didn't fall in love until recently, right after my 18th birthday. I dated one girl for four years and had a handful of others on the side, but nothing compared to the girl I fell in love with. It lasted only two months, and from the start she was a lesbian but willing to kiss and hold me. I really don't know how I am going to get over it, and as autumn passes and I find myself wandering the roads every night around 2am, searching for her within the cold, I just know it's all so worthless and that I am truly lost. The only thing that is my friend is exactly what your story told; the dying leaves and the tyranny of coming winter.

Amazing piece. Honestly.