Finding someone isn’t all fun. I’ve got a few miles on me now. Plenty have checked out the terrain. Plenty more have declined. I’m hoping to find that someone, my person.
I miss the regular walks in parks, you know. Never mind the season, I just liked being out with you. Whether you were bright and chirpy or distracted with work, or family, your phone, all three. Park walks were always sweet.
I remember the laughter, every one of yours; the cacklers, the gigglers, the chucklers, the wheezers or snorters. Hearing a laugh, no matter its form, is never a bad thing.
Cuddling up on the sofa with your place half a tip. Cozy and peaceful, the blare of the TV’s screen, its glow, the way you smelled. You, without a worry in the world, giving slow patient affection without a thought. Going out is great. Sometimes home is better.
I can always tell when someone loves me from their eyes. The scores of eyes I’ve had look at me and through me. Happy, loving, angry, or exasperated. Call it selfish, but having all your attention always lit me up.
No matter who I’ve been with, I’ll admit when you went away, you were all I’d think about. I remember each and every time, how happy you were to see me, whenever you returned. In truth, I doubt any of you were as happy to see me, as I was you.
Sure, I’m a dustbin on legs who’ll eat anything, but food with you was always best. Food from you, even better. Always served with a warm smile in your voice or on your face, a loving touch. Excuse the cringe, but the key to this guy’s heart is most definitely his stomach.
I’ll confess, I found meeting your mates overwhelming. They weren’t always fans of me. To be honest, I didn’t always like them, but I’d do it anytime for you. You know, I don’t forget how you wanted to show me off to everyone and how great that felt.
I know I’m not bad. I know you can do better, too. Maybe someone more focused. Someone who can sit still more, someone better with kids, I don’t know.
I’ll never forget the moments where you’d just speak to me. From the heart, subconscious, involuntary. It really didn’t matter what you said, it was how you were saying it. It didn’t matter if it was good or deep and meaningful, it could be bad or absolute nonsense.
It didn’t matter. There was a special frequency, only for me. Like I became your secret confidant. Knowing things even your Mum or besties didn’t know.
I realize I could frustrate you and cause problems you never asked for. I’m a lifelong sufferer of heart-on-my-sleeve. The sleeve’s torn up now. I’m not bad, you know.
Another long afternoon, and it’s sad to think so many opportunities have passed with good and loving people. I’m not giving up yet though – I think you’ve always got to be willing.
Karen might be the sweetest woman I have ever met. She always gives me the same loving look every time she sees me.
She’s been running this kennel for over 10 years now, and, every time I’ve returned, she says, “We’ll find you a home one day, Rolo.”
I hope she’s right. I just wanna belong to someone.
