“I hate autumn,” her voice rang out across the room.

I looked up at her from between the cracks in the board.

“Why? Is it because of the allergies?” I asked.

“No, it’s because of him,” she whispered.

“His mind was like the restless autumn temperature—

he would love me as if it was a fact that I couldn’t see

then he would suddenly push me away like a stranger.

He was constantly changing his feelings about me.

“His heart was like the hot autumn weather—

so bright and warm and in such great degrees.

It consumed me with such love it took my breath away

but it smothered me under its relentless intensity.

“His heart was also like the chilly autumn weather—

so bitter and frigid and unforgiving.

It was a cage of piercing, jagged icicles

that stabbed me and trapped me, preventing me from leaving.

“His eyes were like the frosty ground in autumn—

so hard and unyielding whenever he swept his gaze over me.

They were unforgiving and stony and so cold

that it permeated my soul, freezing me so I couldn’t break free.

“His eyes were also like the autumn moon—

big and bright and a light grey that was crystal clear.

They reflected the cold and ice in his frigid heart

and refracted the joy from my eyes leaving me with frozen tears.

“His hands and feet were those of kids in autumn—

they picked me up, flung me away, then turned and went;

they stripped me of my happiness and ripped me to pieces.

They stomped on my heart and crushed it to fragments.

“His love was like the autumn leaves—

so perfect and beautiful and unique, like a form of art.

They came in so many different shades,

but its bright colors burned up my heart.

“He was like the biting autumn wind—

his love was strong and it made me want to stay;

But it was also a violent, tempestuous gale

that picked up the charred remains of my heart and flung them away.

“He was like the deadness of autumn—

so opposite from the freshness and life of spring

so lifeless and emotionless and hopeless.

And his love left me empty and with nothing.

“He was the autumn bonfire and I his fuel.

He burned my heart until it turned to ash.

He crushed my heart until it was no longer.

Then he picked me up and threw me into the trash.

“He was all I wanted and all I ever knew—

my life, my death, my world, my sun.

When he left, he abandoned me in the dark and pain of winter.

And that’s why I hate autumn— because he was autumn.”