Don't Leave Me

Willy was her rock for nearly twenty years. But when he got clipped by that truck making a right turn at the corner, she'd watched Willy's health steadily decline. Which was fairly unexpected, as it was a minor accident that Willy walked away from. They never even filed a police report.

Willy was in his golden years, she was a close runner-up at 55. She had noticed his hearing becoming impaired and his eyesight starting to waver years before. And even before that, his legs didn't move as fast as they once did. He also showed signs of significant arthritis in them. But a gripe, groan, or complaint never left him. Not even when she knew he was in a lot of pain.

That in itself was one reason they had such an unbreakable bond. She didn't just admire Willy, she practically revered him. She was in awe of the way he insisted on being self-sufficient and not wanting help from anyone. She so wished that she had even just a fraction of the degree of independence he had. She'd ask often, "How is it that you're so self-reliant and agreeable to most everything?"

He'd never give her a verbal answer. Instead he'd steadily and intently look her in the eye, his way of assuring her she had those strengths, too.

She'd always laugh at that. True, she was extremely self-reliant, perhaps a little too much so. But that was due to the fact that in her entire life, no one had ever stuck by her side, or had her back. History showed that if she didn't act the way people wanted her to, they'd be gone and out of her life without so much as a goodbye. It seemed as if she had words like "hurt me", "disrespect me", "don't appreciate me", "steal from me", "make me feel completely unimportant and ignored" written in bold letters all over her body. Maybe even with strobe light accents.

Except for Willy. He never did any of those things, and his loyalty and love for her never faltered.

One thing she didn't have, though, was Willy's emotional stability. Nothing bothered him. He accepted whatever life handed him without complaint, argument, or fight. She, on the other hand, felt as if her life had just been one huge struggle. Actually, struggle didn't do what she felt justice. She felt her entire life had been one gigantic fight; a fight that she'd never even won a skirmish.

She could admit to being exceedingly angry and full of self-pity. But that was because she reacted emotionally. Unfortunately, one consequence of having a poor emotional quotient is the tendency to react, not respond. She was convinced that people determined how she reacted. Willy's affection and steadfastness in their relationship was her proof.

Being an overthinker on top of everything else just compounded the issue. Her overthinking usually always resulted in the worst possible case scenario imaginable. It's no wonder, then, that she was an angry, unhappy person. In reality, though, the majority of her anger was actually pain. She could tolerate being angry all the time better than hurting all the time. Willy was fairly certain that was probably a universal truth for most people.

One of the things she loved most about Willy was how attuned he was to her moods. He could walk into a room and instantly pick up on her feelings. She didn't have to be crying. She didn't have to have a certain expression. She didn't have to show any signs of despair. Yet he'd walk over to her slowly, with an understated yet concerned questioning look in his eyes. He'd tilt his head to one side and wait patiently until she acknowledged him.

Then he'd sit next to her. Most times, he let his head rest gently on her lap, looking up at her with great compassion. That was her cue to use him as a sounding board. She would stroke his head absently, lost in her private thoughts. Soon, though, and seemingly out of nowhere word vomit would erupt from her mouth, sometimes for hours. Many times her tone would be full of anger or indignation. Although more often than not, he'd barely be able to catch her words through her sobs.

He never acted shocked, never showed disbelief or disgust. He never offered advice, told her his opinions, or asked for clarification. He never asked her to rethink anything, or told her it sounded like she was overthinking things. He never validated her viewpoint, or told her she was right or wrong in her feelings. And most importantly, he never defended anyone else, or their actions. Not even under the guise of “wanting to help her realize there were other ways of looking at the situation and alternate ways of perceiving what had upset her.”

Instead, he'd just listen. And listen silently. He'd let her vent to her heart's content. He'd listen silently until she let everything out, and this let her know she wasn't alone. It also told her that no matter what, he'd always love her and be there for her. Those were the things she needed most. Like most people, she didn't need good intentions, advice, validation, or sympathy. She needed to know someone would love her no matter what and be willing to "sit in the mud" with her.

Willy did both with excellence. She knew how rare that was. She also realized how lucky she was. She couldn't imagine life without Willy. Now that he was showing dramatic signs of aging, she became terrified. At least once a day she'd look him in the eye and beg, "Don't leave me! Not yet. I still need you so." And he would look at her with understanding, a look that told her "I won't."

And he didn't.

She knew she was being selfish, because she could tell he was in a lot of pain most days. Even so, she never hesitated to make him promise. That way he could continue to be the friend she needed. She knew deep down in her heart she'd go to hell for making him give that promise. But she didn't care, because she needed him that much. Some days she'd try to make a different pact with him, telling him she'd go with him when it was time. But he never actually agreed to that.

Then one day the unthinkable happened. She went to jail under a charge where the police had mistaken her for the actual suspect. Nevertheless, it took the system three days to realize their mistake and release her.

She rarely slept while she was incarcerated, but when she did it wasn't a deep, restful sleep. It was fretful, littered with images of Willy. He'd always be worrying about why he hadn't seen her. Or he'd be in unbearable pain with no one to comfort or take care of him

The cell she was assigned was dark. It was windowless, and cold. It kept her in a perpetual, albeit artificial darkness. She had no concept of time, whether it was day or night, or how long she'd be in that cell. She had no cellmates, hence no one to talk to, which made her long for Willy even more. When she asked the jailers questions, they'd respond with cryptic answers, if at all. They wouldn't let her use her phone, not even to get someone's phone number when they booked her. She didn't know anyone's phone number by heart. All her contacts were listed by name, so their numbers never showed when she called them.

No one was looking for her because no one was missing her. Except for Willy, of course. That thought didn't make her feel sorry for herself, or feel lonely. It made her worry about Willy even more. As she lay in the darkness, the thought of him being completely alone, having no idea why, refused to give her any relief. She agonized over him questioning why she had disappeared without saying anything. It tormented her that he probably believed she abandoned him. She was devastated that no one would be helping him get around since he could barely see anymore. She felt deeply depressed not knowing if anyone was even taking care of him at all.

She wondered what all Willy must have been thinking all that time. He had gotten to the point where there were many times he just plain wasn't up to doing anything. He'd keep to himself, sometimes napping on and off all day. Yet on other days, he was completely lucid. She had a recurring image of him utterly lost from not knowing what was going on. She imagined it must be driving him crazy. These images continuously obliterated most all other thoughts she had.

And it certainly was driving her crazy.

She hated not knowing, and worse, being unable to find anything out. Not only was she in the dark, both literally and figuratively, she had placed Willy in the dark, too. Guilt and frustration from this completely overshadowed all feelings jail imposed on her. Those feelings were of degradation, insignificance, helplessness, and hopelessness. Nothing compared to the dark despair resulting from imagining Willy's confusion and fear.

In what seemed an eternity, she was finally released. She didn't acknowledge the apology from the releasing officer. She paid no heed to her release papers. She just ran out the steel door. The extreme contrast of the bright sun to the dark she experienced for three days and two nights was a shock. But easily ignored. She was on a mission that took priority over any and everything imaginable. She had to make sure Willy was okay. Her overthinking had convinced her that Willy perceived her absence as her abandoning him. She had to beg his forgiveness if he did indeed think that.

She felt a twinge of trepidation when she arrived at her home. She was gasping heavily from running the nearly eight blocks in their entirety. Yet she didn't even stop long enough to catch her breath. Instead, she burst through the front door which, oddly, was unlocked. The entire home was cloaked in darkness. The one exception was a ray of sunshine that had been able to sneak its way through the door opening. Even so, she barely noticed that all the curtains were closed as she called out, “Willy? Willy, I'm home! I missed you so! Please forgive me, I'm so sorry. Wait until you hear what happened, though. You're not going to believe this…Willy? Where are you? I'm home now…”

Her voice trailed off as it dawned on her that she didn't hear any indication that Willy heard her. She wasn't even sure he was coming to greet her. There wasn't the usual clicking of nails on the linoleum floor. No rhythmic thuds of a tail wagging against the floor in excitement. No yips conveying “Yay, you're home!” Fear and confusion fought to take place as her dominant emotion, but concern won out. She wanted to try and determine the exact situation facing her. She believed she could scrutinize each room she entered. But due to her agitated state, she didn't observe much. Besides, her focus was on finding Willy and making sure he was okay.

She was aware that the kitchen was one of Willy's favorite rooms. But curiously, some unknown force made her bypass the kitchen. Maybe because the darkness was so uninviting. Besides, why would Willy be in there when it was in total darkness? She continued to look in each room, calling, “Willy, where are you? I'm sorry, please don't be mad.”

Nevertheless, after going through all the other rooms, she forced herself to go check the kitchen. She flipped on the light cautiously and peered around the room. The first thing that caught her eye was his water dish that was bone-dry. “Oh my God,” she thought. “How long has he been without water? Please God, not all three days!” Then she saw him. He was on his side in a corner on the floor. He showed no signs of life.

“WILLY!!” she screamed. “Willy! Oh my God Willy! I'm so sorry, I never meant to leave you alone. Please forgive me, Willy. Oh my God, I'm so sorry. I'll never forgive myself for not being here for you…” Her voice was choked by her sobs. She realized she started blubbering but didn't care. She kept up the blubbering until she could no longer vocalize anything at all, until she was unable to articulate anything anymore.

So she held him close, her body wracked with gasps for air as she bawled like a baby. She thanked God one second for allowing her to have this special friend for twenty years, then the next she was hating him for taking that friend from her.

“Oh my God, Willy, you can't leave me! Who's going to let me vent now? Who's going to sit in the mud with me? Who's going to console me, love me unconditionally, elevate my self-confidence?” Like with God, one second she was thanking Willy for being such a good friend, but the next she was furious with him. “You promised you wouldn't leave me! You said you'd wait. Don't leave me, Willy. Please come back! What will I do without you? You have to come back to me, I don't know what I'll do without you. I don't know if I can stand to be here without you...”

Then, “WILLY!” she screamed. “Are you listening to me? My sweet little best bud, you need to find your way back to me! I don't know what I'm going to do without you! And you promised me…”

She cradled his motionless body in her arms and pressed her face against his, begging him to come back to her. She stroked his belly slowly and softly, just the way he loved it. Only this time when she stopped for a second, his little paw didn't tap at her arm in a request to keep going. He didn't look up at her indignantly when she stopped, either.

He didn't look up at her at all.

It hit her like a sledgehammer when she realized he'd never do those things again.

He'd also never dance on his back paws in his excitement when she came home.

He'd never bark at the bugaboos he was protecting her from.

He'd never whine for treats.

He'd never race around the house when he heard “go for a ride?”

He'd never play with balloons and get confused when they popped.

He'd never curl up in her lap to take a nap.

He'd never lay on her neck at bedtime.

He'd never read her emotions when he came into a room.

He'd never console her.

He'd never sit in the mud with her.

He'd never wag his tail.

He'd never lick her face.

There would be no amount of time that could pass to relieve even the tiniest shred of guilt she felt. She had begged him to not leave her and made him promise multiple times, but then wasn't there for him. She wasn't there when he needed her the most. He'd needed her to console him, but she didn't. He'd needed her to tell him it was gonna be okay, but she didn't. He'd needed her to tell him that she loved him as much as he loved her, but she didn't. He'd needed her to hold him, scratch him behind the ears, above his tail, and rub his belly. To just BE THERE when he finally left.

But she wasn't.

She didn't do any of that for him. Instead, she left him alone, confused, isolated, hungry, and

miserable. Nothing could ever fix that.

Nothing.