Memory Lane

Chapter Fifteen

"Something we were withholding made us weak, until we found it was ourselves." - Robert Frost

Memory Lane: Chapter Fifteen

As Tuesday night slowly ticked by, I cried myself dry. With no more tears to be shed and exhaustion creeping in on me, I drifted off to sleep only to wake up well past my normal school alarm Wednesday morning. Turns out, Aunt June turned off my alarm to allow me the sleep my body desperately needed after crying for hours.

Rather than be upset for missing class, I'm nothing but grateful that Aunt June gave me the option to stay home from school for the day. I don't know if I could have made it through the entire day, especially if that meant seeing Jesse this soon after last night. The guilt that pooled in his gray eyes as I started to break down has been constantly flashing through my mind and it's quite annoying.

He rarely shows emotion. So, when he does, my mind seems to grab onto those moments and keeps replaying them. All morning it has been a carousel of his smile, his guilt, and even the small pockets of worry that he showed going round and round in my mind.

Aunt June took the morning off to stay home with me. Neither of us felt it was the best idea to leave me alone with my thoughts after such a devastating breakdown last night. Not because either of us are worried of what I might do, but because she knows it's better to have someone with me to talk through things rather than be alone. I already feel lonely enough.

I haven't gotten out of bed since I stirred awake around 9am. I have no motivation to face the day today. No confidence to face Aunt June and the talk I know must be waiting on the tip of her tongue.

Still, the low grumbling in my stomach becomes painful since I skipped dinner last night and I force myself up and out of bed to get breakfast. As I walk into the kitchen, my bare feet barely making any noise on the linoleum flooring, I notice Aunt June in the living room with her legs tucked up next to her as she reads a book resting on the couch's armrest. With a quiet sigh, I direct my attention back towards the coffee and begin sifting through the mugs to pour myself a cup.

My hands find an old Virginia Tech mug off to the side of the cabinet, almost forgotten behind the mixture of Uncle Tim's favorite mugs and Aunt June's statement pieces. After pouring a large cup of coffee, needing to be reheated in the microwave since the pot was no longer warm, I take in a breath and make my way towards the living room. I know Aunt June is going to want to question me about last night. She'll want to know what spurred such a dramatic reaction from me, because it couldn't have just been a trip to the store like I had originally lied and said.

I accidentally announce my presence by stepping onto a squeaky floorboard and Aunt June lifts her eyes from the book. When her bright blue gaze lands on me, she gently shuts the hardcover and offers me a kind smile that sets my racing heart at ease.

"Good morning, you sleep well?"

My eyes find the clock under the TV stand; 11:29am. Hardly morning anymore.

"Clearly I did if it's this late in the day," I mumble. "Isn't wasting the day away a sign of depression?"

Aunt June lets out a small laugh at my (partial) joke. "Letting your body recover isn't wasting the day away. And it's not even noon, there's plenty of daylight left."

I take a sip of my coffee rather than respond, sitting on the couch next to Aunt June after she patted the cushion to her right. My body sinks into the old couch, causing my coffee to swirl around my mug.

"How are you feeling?"

"Good. Bad. Confused. Tired. I don't know."

She nods quietly, hands tapping the top of her book in an unconscious gesture as we both fall into silence. Then she points to the mug in my hands.