why buy the puppy?

June 8, 2022

Buy the puppy! What fun and joy man's-best-friend will bring! Soak up every moment of it, maybe even take some moments for granted.

Buy the puppy.

15 years later. Sad how short dogs' lives are, eh? You bought the puppy, what joy it brought you. Perhaps some annoyances too? Man’s-best-friend is also man’s-hardest-work. Surely some days you wanted to just throw the little crap right out the door, but you didn’t, because you loved that puppy; and now it’s time to let go.

Man’s-best-friend is now gone. All those years, all that joy, gone. You begin to regret all that you took for granted. Now that it’s over you just long for more, just one more day. The pain is heavy, consuming, even. Why did you buy the puppy? Why allow such joy into your life just to have it stripped away in no-time. Was the joy worth the pain?

Now you know. To never make that mistake again. Don’t buy a new puppy.

That’s what I promised myself.

Don’t let anyone in. Don’t risk the pain. It’s not worth it. This feeling is heavy, and it tends to linger.

Don’t care.

Yet, I bought a new puppy.

First walking into this past semester (my junior year), I had no expectations that it would be anything more than a task I just had to get through. I was completely blindsided by what I was about to endure; the joy.

A year ago today, I told myself I was never going to step foot back into that building again. I was done. I wanted to get all my credits, graduate, and move on with my life. Honestly, the thought of going back was embarrassing. I wanted no part of it. I lost my last puppy, and was in no way willing to go through that again.

Partially by choice, partially by force, I bought a new puppy. It wasn’t long before I realized this one was going to hurt, bad.

March 16th; I still remember that day, the day I realized this all was eventually going to end. My puppy would inevitably die.

I tend to think of the saying “you don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone,” but I don’t think that’s completely true. I was grieving the loss before the loss even happened. I knew this would hurt; I knew what I would be losing. Somehow, that felt even worse.

The change? Time. Up until yesterday, I still had time, but now, it’s really over. The day I’ve been dreading for the past 3 months, was here. My puppy is truly dead; even awareness couldn’t have prepared me for this.

I recently realized this “best, worst” semester was truly just the best. It was everything I could have hoped for, and more… which I guess was the problem.

In February, I was pushed back into school, petrified, and honestly, full of dread. Now it’s June and I would do anything for one more day. This semester was truly a gift from God, and sadly, an ending from God as well.

This past year, I lost most-to-all faith in people. I picked up the “I’ll figure it out myself” motto, because that was easier than letting people in. It was easier than buying the new puppy. People are still people, and their unpredictable nature petrified me. By letting people in, I was letting in their judgment, their not-so-helpful help, and, worst of all, their ability to leave. No one is fully permanent, anyone can leave anyone's life at any time, and that in itself is terrifying. I learned my lesson many times before, that’s why I wasn’t going to buy the new puppy. But, I did.

The loss hurts so, so bad. I think I can strongly say this is the hardest thing I’ve had to go through in a long time. I kind of laugh as I say that– after this past year and a half, the end of one semester of school hurts the most? Huh? Honestly, yeah it does; and I’m sort of mad at myself, because it does.

I’ve been thinking these past few days, because truthfully, why does this hurt so bad? Logically, it shouldn’t. Logically, I’ve been through much tougher battles– this should feel like nothing. But I think I’ve found the difference: this battle isn’t me vs. me, it’s me vs. change; me vs. life. In February 2021, when I first became bedridden, I promised myself that I would detach from these situations. I couldn’t afford more pain on top of this self-driven battle I was facing. I had to stop letting people affect me, and the only way I knew how to was to completely stop caring. The fortress I built for myself had to be impenetrable. I promised myself I wouldn’t buy another puppy.

I broke that promise.

That’s why this is different. That’s why this is heavier.

I care too much, I’ve always known that. That’s why I had to completely withdraw from anything that would cause any sort of caring. It was a shield, I had to protect myself from these “external” challenges so I could take on my “internal” challenges. It didn’t really work, clearly.

I think I’m glad it didn’t. I think I’m glad the shield broke.

I think I’m glad I bought the puppy.

I’ve been torn these past few months between being glad that I care enough to miss it, or angry that I let myself care enough to miss it.

It hurts really bad, change is really difficult, but the fact that it hurts this much is proof that it mattered that much.

It was an amazing semester. God saw I was losing faith in people, so He showed me His people. I’m forever grateful for that. It pains me that it had to end, pains me that life takes people in different directions, but despite it all, I’m still so thankful that I got to meet such meaningful people.

It truly saved my life. To think the breaking of the one thing I thought was protecting me, ended up saving me.

I don’t know when this feeling will go away. As much as I can see the good in this, part of me still wants more time. I don’t want things to change. I don’t want to find new people. I want to stay here, forever. I don’t want to forget this.

The pain I’ve felt these past few days, makes me never want to go through this again. I don’t want to care, I don’t want the risk, I don’t want the loss. This feels way too bad.

But, I know I eventually will. Deep down I know it was worth caring.

So here comes the question: Why ever buy a new puppy? Why put yourself through all this pain all over again?

Here’s the answer: why put yourself through the pain of not.

A month later:

July 13, 2022

I wrote this the day after graduation, one of my lowest points. I never finished or posted this, simply because I didn’t know how to finish it.

Perhaps now I do.

Now it’s happening again… just a bit differently this time.

This time it was unexpected.

I didn’t think I cared this much.

I don’t know why God keeps giving me people, just to take them away.

He gives them to me, right when I need them. But then, takes them away– right when I still need them.

Grief.

What a tough thing to grasp.

Through this all though, there’s a reason. I know it. There has to be.

It’s been so hard– I’ve been so frustrated that it’s been so hard. Frustrated with myself for allowing it to be, I guess.

But, with pain comes realization.

I’ve “lost” people, but I could never really lose them.

“Lost love is still love.” “It takes a different form, that’s all.” (Albom, 171) The next line in the book (The 5 People You Meet in Heaven) says “Memory.” Memory is the form.

Memory– it’s what keeps the puppy alive.

See, you never really lose them.

There’s comfort in memory. Solace.

It shouldn’t have to be this way, but it is. It’s ok. Memory has got you now.

Eventually, you’ll see.

To those who have been with me through it all, and to those who are here in my memory: Thank you.

“Saved My Life” -by Andy Grammer

Thanks for all the friendship.