He was not well.
Right now, he was sick of body. Many would say he was also sick of mind.
But the part of him that was the sickest of all was his heart.
What he was aiming for as he trudged through the cold and snow-strewn ground was not to see his beloved himself in the flesh. His resolve would only be shaken even more if he did, and he had no right to see him after he had hurt him so much with the decision he had one-sidedly made for them both.
He only wanted to find out if the garden at their residence had been properly tended in preparation for the winter.
And should he find that it wasn't, though his heart might break even more, he would push through the crushing pain and do the task himself, hoping that it wasn't too late to save the plants that were not adapted to the freezing
