Never enough (Short Story #3)

  • Genre: Fiction
  • Warning: Mental health

So, all you need is organic kale and banana and…

The celebrity chef was rattling off a list of ingredients, pointing to each in turn. The new moms around me listened in rapt attention. I heard nothing. My gaze was on the long-haired boy in the black t-shirt working with cameras off to the side of the set.

There was something about the boy that took me out of the television studio.

Back to a house party where I had locked eyes with Matthew for the first time. The music had been loud, and so was the laughter. Matthew was different from the other boys. There was a hint of vulnerable in his masculine bravado.

One night together and I had found my soulmate. My forever. We were inseparable after that. All we needed was each other. Endless days and nights of talking, lovemaking, wine and pizza. Sometimes our loved ones rudely dragged us from our makeshift cocoon, reminding us that the outside world still existed. For the most part, we managed to ignore them.

It felt magical at first. But then I realized that I needed to get back to class if I wanted to finish my degree. He reluctantly let me go each morning and was sullen while I worked on my portfolio at night. The more I tried to grow, the more he withdrew.

Matthew wasn’t always down. Some tequila and he’d be great for a few hours. I disregarded the nagging feeling that things weren’t right with him. With us. Until I couldn’t anymore.

All he needed was therapy and a good antidepressant. I begged him to speak to someone, and he sulked for days afterwards. The medication went untouched. He said he didn’t want to not feel. Apparently he needed to feel to make art. But no art was made. His canvases were as unspoiled as the pack of medication the doctor had prescribed for him.

All he needed was his family and space. It was what I needed too. I called his mother in tears, desperate for her help. He was drowning in his sadness and self-destructive behaviour and taking me down with him. She arrived soon after and packed him and his belongings in her car. Not long after, I left our cocoon too. My old bedroom in my parent’s home was welcoming and warm.

When I checked on him,  the reports were good. It sounded like he was making progress. I reassured myself that I had done the right thing. I was graduating and he was getting help.

Years later, I saw the messages about Matthew’s death from mutual friends on social media. In the end, apparently, all he needed was a razor blade.

By making your own homemade baby food, you can adjust the flavours based on your little one’s palates.

The chef finished up and the dark-haired boy was gone. I could go home and cuddle my sweet little Mattie. All Mattie needed was love and organic homemade baby food.

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