It was as though she knew that only a dog could ever understand my pain. That was until that dog arrived on my doorstep. Without hope to keep me afloat, I was drowning, sinking deeper into a void that I had no possible means of escape from – myself. When your entire world has been torn apart in the cease of a heartbeat, hanging on is all you can ever hope to do. The pain, on the other hand, that gave me something to hang onto. Sure, a thousand memories were triggered in unison, but none could ever compare to the feeling of stroking the hair from her face one more time, of falling headlong into her rapturous eyes. When I looked at her photo, that’s all I felt… nothing at all. I’d take every ounce of suffering over numbness. Not the kind that ever goes away, the kind that stays and plays. When Helen died, I was left with nothing. Instead I’m going to be required to exert myself, when all I want to do is sit at home and think of what they took from me. And to think I could have worked an office job and been presented a gold watch on my final day, for services rendered. You wanted me back… I’m back! Looks like retirement will have to take a back seat for the time being.
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