Present Passion

   A few hours ago my therapist told me there's a difference between being lonely and alone, but right now, I can't tell the difference. I feel like I'm both, though I've been wrong before. I had to leave the nest we once shared because the silence and emptiness was too unbearable. There's an excerpt from Plato's The Symposium that goes, "According to Greek mythology, humans were originally created with four arms, four legs and a head with two faces. Fearing their power, Zeus split them into two separate parts, condemning them to spend their lives in search of their other halves.” Mine was a beautiful boxer, painted brown with a white strip from her chin to her belly, who went by the name Mia. Now, I don't condone animals having human names, but in all her perfection and glory, I allowed it.

   I've come to the conclusion that I have never loved a person as much as I loved that dog. She had the most unique personality― vibrant and lively and lovely. She was introduced to my life at a very dark time. She was my silver lining. Let's see: I had just dropped out of nursing school, I choked out my best friend since fifth grade, I broke up with my boyfriend, and I got so drunk at a party, I tried to fight every guy and girl I encountered, walked into barbwire, and cursed myself with deep gashes on all four limbs. It wouldn't make it to the highlight reel of my life. But there she was. And now I've lost her.

   I told my mom, "There are things that bug you, but the minute they're gone, you almost miss it... I've been so stressed out about Mia pissing on my carpet and having to shampoo it weekly, but I would give anything in the world to have her here with me if that's what it would take."

   For some reason, it would be different if I were in my room and she were in the living room, which happened sometimes. I've went to call her a few times but stopped myself. Was it the pure reassurance of her presence? Her absence is so permanent. I called my mom crying and exclaimed to her that I wish my baby wasn't buried in her yard. For the four years we had been together, I use to loathe when people called Mia my daughter. She's my fuckin' roommate, I would say. Now the only noun I refer to her as is My Baby™. What can you do?

   I walked into my friend's house and told him, "Here's some banana bread. There's no amount of cooking or cleaning I can do to keep my mind preoccupied." I tried to explain to someone once that if you've never taken acid, you can't know what it's like; there's no way to explain it. The same thing applies to love. To have unconditional love (it's like that with dogs... not-so-much with humans), to have constant company, and to be immediately forgiven, there isn't much that can hold a candle to that. I was listening to The Beatles' "Something" and I broke the fuck down. They told me:

Something in the way she moves
Attracts me like no other lover
Something in the way she woos me

I don't want to leave her now
You know I believe and how

Somewhere in her smile she knows
That I don't need no other lover
Something in her style that shows me

Don't want to leave her now
You know I believe and how

You're asking me will my love grow
I don't know, I don't know
You stick around now it may show
I don't know, I don't know

Something in the way she knows
And all I have to do is think of her
Something in the things she shows me

Don't want to leave her now
You know I believe and how

   And I was like, "Daaaamn." That was naht what I should've been listening to. It's such a comforting and surreal feeling when you hear someone else describe the exact way vibrations shake your heart and truth rattles your bones. My therapist told me I need to address my emotions and experience this grief. Being sad is insanely unsettling and I'm not with the shit at all. Someone once tried to explain to me how frustrating it is when you're mourning yet you see other people smiling and laughing and behaving as if everything is fine in the world. I finally understand. As it stands, I am not okay with the world continuing on and behaving as if one of the most god-given gifts to Earth hasn't lost its life force. Is she here with me in spirit? Perhaps. I want her to be with me here in the physical.

And that's just too much to ask.