You know what? I saw a dog today.
I smiled at first. Then I grinned a little. And later, when I was alone, I cried.
Not because of the dog.
It was never about the dog.
But somehow, everything was about the dog.
That bloody stupid dog.
Laugh as much as you want, but yes, I cried.
I cried because it was our dog.
We used to dream about what kind of dog we’d have. We’d give it names. Talk about who would take it to the vet, who would feed it, who would walk it every day, who would spoil it more, and so on and so on.
Small things. You might say ridiculous things. I would say important things.
Because somewhere along the way, that dream dog became part of a dream home. And that home became a life.
Our life.
And it hurts today.
For a few seconds, looking at that dog, I saw something that is no longer there.
The home we never shared. The mornings we never had. The arguments that never existed.
Sunday mornings. Lazy mornings. Breakfast in bed. Dancing in the kitchen.
Two people getting older together.
No more one plus one.
Only two.
I didn’t cry because I missed the dog we never had. I cried because I dreamt of all that. I believed in all of it.
I believed in us.
Perhaps love is cruel.
You don’t only lose the person. You lose the future. The dream.
Memories that never got the chance to happen.
And perhaps you don’t know it until it happens to you, but you can miss them too.
You can miss our dancing in the kitchen. The messy morning beds. Your toothbrush. Your shampoo. Your crazy little things.
How the hell do you grieve something that never existed?
I don’t know.
But you do.
They say love is beautiful.
I say love is pain.
It is losing you.
It is less of me, less of you, and more of us.
But when us doesn’t exist anymore…
Because I miss all of it.
The laughs. The jokes only you understand. The bonds we cannot explain.
The places that became our places.
Those moments when the world stopped. The noise was gone. People became only shadows.
You were there.
And nothing else mattered.
There was hope, desire, passion, fear. And mostly, there was love. A sense of belonging like never before.
And one day, there is nothing.
No more stupid cards. No more clingy nights. No more roses. No more cakes.
Now there is silence.
But silence isn’t the worst part.
The worst part is those moments when I want to tell you something and suddenly remember I can’t.
That frustration. That anger. That pain.
That is also love.
Seeing something you would love and taking the picture you will never send.
Walking through places that were once happy and finding them empty now, filled only with memories.
Sometimes I am fine. Sometimes I’m even more than fine.
I work. I study. I make plans. I go out. I laugh. I travel.
And I build another version of my life.
I survive things I once thought would destroy me.
And then I see a dog.
And you’re there.
And for a moment, I’m standing inside a future that is no longer there.
That’s the strange thing about heartbreak.
It doesn’t always come screaming.
Sometimes it has four legs and simply walks past you.
People tell you to move on.
They’re right.
Life doesn’t stop because your heart got broken.
Bills still arrive. Morning still comes.
And you know what?
The world has no room for heartbreak.
So I keep going.
But moving on isn’t easy.
And I want to tell you something.
It was beautiful.
It was meaningful. It was good.
It is pain now, but it was also good.
And that is the irony of love, isn’t it?
I will not call it a mistake simply because it hurt me.
Because it wasn’t.
Love can burn you.
Maybe that’s the price.
When you love someone, you give them pieces of you. Pieces of your future. Of your life.
Your dreams.
Your dog.
You see her growing older, still holding your hand.
And then she’s gone.
Some memories fade.
Others remain.
A song. A street. A photograph. A stupid joke.
A dog.
Maybe one day I’ll have that dog.
Maybe someone else will be there.
Maybe I’ll argue with her about the name and complain that I’m always the one walking it.
Maybe we’ll build a home.
I hope so.
But today wasn’t that day.
Today I saw a dog.
I smiled.
I remembered.
And later, alone where nobody could see me, I cried for a life that never happened.
Because sometimes the hardest thing to let go of isn’t what you had.
It’s what you thought you were about to have.
It was never about the dog.
It was about us.
It was about home.
It was about forever.
And for a while, I believed in all three.
LOVEBURN
Love is beautiful.
That’s why it hurts so much when it burns.
