Love

Love. It is very hard isn't it? Being in love. It certainly brings unbound joy and amazing experiences on several occasions. But sometimes, it only gives you pain and sadness. And during those especially sad moments, it is incredibly painful and agonizing. You can tell fairy tales are made up simply because most of them do not talk about these hard times. They mostly focus on the happily ever afters.

 

Bright. Some of those thoughts were firing in my brain when I was walking on the trail around Stow Lake in San Francisco that Sunday afternoon. It was an incredibly bright, sunny, and fog-less day after a considerable streak of cold days, so it seemed like the entire population of the city was spending their day at Golden Gate Park. A few minutes of walking later, I found a bench far enough from the rest of the crowd, just under the shade of a large tree. I sat down and stared straight ahead at nothing in particular. I had a good view of the lake and the trail going around it. Dozens of boats were milling about the lake, each one carrying either a small group or a couple, causing a mini traffic jam every now and then. A young couple was walking their dog on the trail, waving back at the excited kids who were waving at them from some of the boats. The dog was wagging her tail displaying her own excitement and joy.

That could have been us, I thought to myself. But you screwed it all up. Now she is most likely gone, and things will never be the same.

Pain. I never thought one could feel so much pain and hurt without any physical injury or trauma. Every waking second reminded me of what I did, how I managed to lose her affection. The love of my life. My best friend. My stomach grumbled to remind me that I had skipped both breakfast and lunch that day. I had been eating erratically for the past couple of days, ever since the conflict. She wouldn't eat anything I made for her since then either. I got concerned after a few hours, and called our doctor to ask for help. He suggested that I take her to a friend's place for a change of scenery for a few days. After a lot of cajoling, I managed to drop her off at her friend Emma's place where she had been doing good for the most part.

Sleep. I turned around, stretched my legs on the bench, and closed my eyes. Sleep was my only escape from the constant pain. Not that I slept soundly the past two nights. I missed her cuddle, how she would lay on the bed next to me, hug me and put her head on my chest. It was the best feeling in the world, and I would just go straight to sleep with a smile, feeling all her love. Last night I got into bed and stared at the ceiling for a long time, eyes tired but unwilling to close. The neurons in my brain constantly firing, bringing back the memories of how badly I screwed up.

Anger. I was mad at myself for losing my mind that day. The day it all went down. I had just come home after a long and frustrating day at work, tired and hungry. She had been nagging me for something that evening, I don't recall now what it was for. But after a few minutes, I got into a fit of temper, and had screamed at her to shut up. In her shock, she knocked over my phone which was on the coffee table on to the floor, and the screen broke with a loud, cracking sound. At that point, I completely lost it, and slapped her hard on the back. I still shuddered thinking about it. That was it. She simply walked away from me to the bedroom. She wouldn't eat anything, or respond to any of my apologies. I remember how the look in her eyes changed. Something broke in her when she realized I had hit her. When I went to sleep next to her on the bed, she woke up and went to the couch. I cried to sleep that night.

Tired. I got up from the bench, and walked back to my car. As I was driving home, I remembered our road trips together. She loved traveling in the car with me, taking the highway to a distant and exciting place. Sometimes I would put my right arm on her, and she would sleep hugging my arm. I missed caressing her ear while she slept on my arm. The car still smelled like her. I missed her so much. Google Maps had detected an accident on my usual route home, so it was now redirecting me through a slightly longer route. As I stood waiting at a light, I looked around and saw that I was actually stopped next to her favorite store. The store that made the one dish she liked more than any other food in the world. Could it possibly work?

Hope. I parked my car, and got my order in for her dish. After a few minutes of waiting, I got my bag of food, and drove straight to Emma's house, texting my friend that I was on my way there. I walked in to the house, and I could see her sitting next to Emma in the living room. She saw me and turned her back towards me with deliberation. Heartbroken, I sat on the floor next to her, desperate to catch her eye. I told her I was sorry, and I would never hit her again. I told her I realized I broke her trust, and I hoped that she would forgive me and come back home with me. I then opened the bag of food I had. The smell of peanut butter filled the air in the room. I knew she could smell it too. She turned and looked at the cake I had in my hands. Then looked at me. It was full of love and forgiveness. I knew then, that she had forgiven me. I hugged her and cried.

Home. When we came home that afternoon, I told her that I loved her very much and that she was my world. I sat on the couch, and she ran to me and sat on my lap. I scratched her ear the way she liked it. She grinned at me. Later that evening, I took her to the dog park, where she met Emma again, this time in happier circumstances. They took turns chasing the ball, and she was completely spent in an hour. When I went to bed that night, she curled up next to me and put her head on my chest.

I love you Phoebe, I whispered to her. She answered back with a gentle bark of love.