Pug Love

Dear Everyone,

Soon after my father’s death last year I needed some cheering up.

I turned to okCupid thinking I could use dating to distract me. I always liked the data science blog that the wannabe indie dating site put out, and the people on the site seemed to respect words more than pictures. As a wannabe writer I also try to respect words, even if I can’t spell them. It always felt like a better fit for me than mindlessly swiping pictures and bullet point biographies that were usually little more than a list of likes.

Before you the reader respond, I know dating is a horrible way to deal with grief but perhaps I wasn’t thinking clearly. I thought at least it could be someone(s) to talk to. And since I quit my job(s) to write a book easy conversation was harder to come by. Although to be honest I have never been a fan of easy conversation despite my hollow cravings for it. It has also proven to have worked out in this instance.

But instead of finding more small talk and vanity I met the most wonderful woman I could imagine. Beautiful, striking, well-spoken, and free-thinking. When I met her I had no energy to put up my usual facades of bravado and pretense. I was just unapologetically myself. At that moment I didn’t care if she liked me or not, I didn’t have the energy for that. She came into my life without artifice, she had just moved to DC to find a better life than she had had in Alabama. When she walked into the Teaism we had our first date and I remember seeing her and getting this weird feeling that this was the woman I was going I marry. The date went smoothly despite the edible I had ingested prior and we both fell into a wonderfully weird conversation about Disney Villains and other nonsense until we realized she needed to go to bed because she had work the next day.

Soon after that first date she went back to Alabama to see her family. When she returned she brought back a pug puppy. I was caught off guard by the work involved in raising a puppy, but I couldn’t deny how much I loved being around her, hearing her speak was a joy every time. So I could find no reason to rid myself of her company. My grief was screaming at my brain to run away from anyone and everyone in my life but my heart had already decided. Her dashing approach to life helped me fall in love with her, and the pug taught me the truth of what love is. Love isn’t explainable and I lack the literary expertise to do it now, but all I will say is that love is unconditional, it’s unconcerned by your brains trivial rationalizations.

I remember the moment I told her I didn’t even know what the feeling I was feeling was. I started crying because I liked her so much but didn’t know what to do. In retrospect I am humbled by the masculine ideology I had clung to and it’s insistence that feelings don’t exist or shouldn’t be listened to. Whatever it was I was feeling I couldn’t put words to it. She simply responded that she loved me too.

The rest will be history, I am thankful everyday that she tumbled into my life amidst the whims of my grief, and I am thankful that she saw through my sorrow and has helped me find my joy.

That pug has taught me that being needed isn’t something to avoid, unconditional love is unconditional because it’s something we all need. It’s just there and you can either run from it or embrace it. Both require work, but I’ve come to realize the toil of love is far more pleasurable than the slog of independence.

I think as a writer it’s important to have a foundation, and for me I have finally remembered that my foundation for life is my belief in love. I don’t believe anything else can be unconditional in the same way.