Alone

Valentine's Day literally dawned with the realization that the dog has officially dumped me.

Yes, my loyal companion, my shadow, no longer sleeps in my bed. Her human sister and best playmate astutely set up the dog bed on the floor next to her bed. Voila, Phoenix has decided that close is close enough and her dog bed is perfect, thank you very much. Everyone is sleeping better. This is good because I am too old to contort myself around a sleeping, bed-hogging dependent.

And yet...

I miss snuggling that compact, muscular crescent in the middle of the night. I miss running my hand over her velvety ears when I cannot sleep. I even miss letting her out to howl in the wee hours because she always rewarded me with aggressive affection manifested through assertive nudges of my arm for attention as she settled back down to sleep, curling tightly into my side. That dog has single handedly (pawedly?) saved me from despair by demanding attention, learning, and love, and now she is O-V-E-R it. I miss her companionship. 

So my first thought on Valentine's Day, an inconvenient hour before my alarm went off, was that now even the dog has dumped me. This is a new low.

My second thought was of Chris sleeping next to me. I spent a while remembering the shape his dear form took, the way he loved to be warm and wore a sweatshirt or pullover fleece to bed in the winter. He is imprinted on my memory, so close I could just roll slightly to my right and rest my head on his shoulder, but so gone I would wrench my aching aging neck from not landing on his alive body.

Instead of drifting off to sleep for a precious stretch, I more solidly joined the world of the living. I looked over at his side of the bed - flat as usual- that half as empty as my core, and my third observation clanged through the quiet of my room.

I am utterly alone.

It isn't the stupid holiday or the lack of any grand gesture; it's the everyday nothingness where there once was comfort, understanding, joy, mutual making-it-through-the-day-ness. It's not being at the top of anyone's list. It's not being able to share the ups and downs. It's being invisible in this world. It's having experienced how wonderful it is to be with the exact right person and knowing that kind of fulfillment is over for you. 

Alone on Valentine's Day.

Alone every single day. 

Every. Single. Day.

Alone.