I don’t want people looking at me with pity, thinking I’m weak, concerned about my wellbeing. I suddenly miss the days where I never really talked to anyone. I did what I wanted without the concern of others.
It helps me remember why I don’t let people into my life because this is what happens and I’m over it.
Bruno hops in my car, and I don’t even say anything to him, but I think he can tell something is wrong. He drops his head and even though there’s a hint of guilt as I drive toward the animal shelter, the numbness takes over.
It would be selfish to keep him. He can’t live like this and he doesn’t deserve it, either. He doesn’t need someone who can’t give him enough. I can never give anyone enough of myself because there’s nothing to give.
Once we get there, I’m greeted by Gloria whose smile drops when she sees Bruno next to me.
“Is something wrong?” she asks, concerned.
“No, I just don’t think I can foster him anymore.”
“Oh,” she sighs. “Well, I really thought this would end a little differently and it would be easierto tell you.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You weren’t fostering him. I had you fill out the adoption paperwork. I was sure you’d decide to keep him.”
“You what?” I snap, harsher than I probably should.
“I saw you and him together and I was so sure you’d decide you wanted to keep him.”
“Well that wasn’t your decision to make, was it?”
Her voice is dejected as she continues. “No, it wasn’t. I really am sorry. If you really don’t want to keep him, we can go through the surrender process.”
I grip his leash tighter, the leather biting into my skin. “No.”
Even though I feel completely lost, there’s no way I could live with myself if I left him in there once again. To let him think he was rejected from another home just because I’m the problem.
And Iamthe problem. I’m going to be selfish, and when we get back in the car I sigh heavily. “Sorry, you’re stuck with me, and what a shitty life that is.”
I don’t even want to be in my own life, and now I’m subjecting someone else to it.
Fucking selfish.
Fucking weak.
Bailey’s been back,but I haven’t seen her. I haven’t seen anyone. I’m avoiding everyone because I don’t want to see the looks on their faces or hear what they have to say. I haven’t even looked at my phone in several days.
When I finally do, I see several missed calls from Chris. Which is extremely unusual and even though I would rather not talk to anyone, I manage to call him back, a sinking feeling taking root in my gut. Especially after our last conversation where he was clearly struggling.
A woman answers the phone. “Hello?” Her voice cracks and my stomach drops.
“Hi. I have a few missed calls from Chris, is he around?”
The woman sniffles. “It was from me. I saw he talked to you before….” Her voice trails off and the pit in my stomach only grows. This isn’t the first phone call like this I’ve gotten, and I feel like I know exactly what’s coming. She doesn’t even need to say it, but she speaks through her sobs. “I found him two days ago.”
I can hear what she’s not saying. She found him.Dead.
She continues on, as though she’s reliving the moment and I don’t say anything. “He wasn’t answering me and when I came to check on him he was already gone.”
“I’m sorry for your loss.” My voice is steady, but sounds so far away to my own ears.
Her sobs take over and I’m unable to understand anything else she says. I don’t do well with crying, but even more so I don’t know what I’m feeling. It’s like my mind has shut offcompletely. Detached itself. My body, my mind, and my emotions, they’re all separated.
“I’m sorry.” She sniffles. “His funeral is next weekend if you’re able to come.”
