My life has been a hot mess lately. Even that is an understatement. I don’t even know where to begin so I’m going to start with the worst day of my life. Jerry and I had been engaged nearly 3 years saving for the perfect wedding. He truly was the love of my life. I never connected with someone on a spiritual level as much as I did with him. It was all so perfect. Until it was my worst nightmare.
We had just put the deposit down on a new ranch home in rural Arkansas where we could raise horses together as was both of our passion. We met 5 years prior at a stable where we were both keeping our horses in Orange County, California. The wedding was in two weeks, everything was paid for and we were ecstatic. I asked Jerry to go pick up the programs while I got ready for the bachelorette party that weekend.
I asked Jerry to go pick up the programs. God. I asked him to go. That’s probably why I have such immense guilt typing this even now. He said, “let’s just go together when you’re ready” I was too excited to see the beautiful programs I had designed so I sent him to his death.
On the way to get the programs Jerry was involved in a horrible accident. At least that’s what everyone is telling me. That he is dead and beyond recognizable in his vehicle on Pioneer Blvd. Why won’t they let me see him? All I want is closure. I keep telling myself that he’s dead but something doesn’t feel right. As I said before our spiritual connection was intense and as I sit here typing this I can… I can feel Jerry here.
Anyway instead of a wedding we held a funeral. Instead of beautiful programs proclaiming our Union I was burying my fiancé. Not really though. No body in the casket, no trace of Jerry. Just an old set of clothes I gave the funeral director to lay in place of his body. This all feels so wrong typing.
Anyway, needless to say I’ve been a recluse for days by now. I haven’t spoken to my friends, I haven’t spoken to my mother and most importantly I haven’t spoken to Jerry. However something most peculiar has happened. I awoke early last Tuesday morning to a relentless scratching at my door. Relentless. It kept going on and on. Every now and then a howl following behind it. A howl that sounded all too much like my name. I must be going crazy I tell myself. The wild animal trying to get in your house isn’t saying your name.
But I guess I was too delirious to care. I peered through the window and the scratching ceased. I was met with two of the most familiar eyes I had ever seen peering through the window at me. Human eyes. The odd thing was these eyes were connected to the body of quite a large dog I could only explain as being a mix between a Pitt bull and something HUGE. Something made me tear open the door.
The large dog stammered into the house and just barked incoherently running to all my framed photos of Jerry knocking them off cabinets as he slapped at them. I couldn’t understand this had to be a sick joke. But how would a dog know how to play a joke? And those eyes? God I miss Jerry but I’m going crazy.
A week later I’m sitting here with this dog who won’t stop staring at me or climbing into Jerry’s side of the bed and the most horrifying part is he just looks in the mirror for hours. Why does this dog have Jerry’s eyes?