A Woman's companion

Breakups. An emotional and mental form of turmoil on the soul. Whether they're 6 month long relationships, or 5 years, the pain can be equally debilitating.

It was a breezy March afternoon in Los Angeles as I went to go pick up my niece, Ruby. We were off to spend the day together so she can come over to my apartment and play with Hunter (my cat) and Gia, my dog. She loves animals and I'd been promising we'd have an awesome aunt-niece day. The entire day I kept feeling a heavy feeling in my chest, a feeling I've felt before. It was horrible. My mind kept spinning and at this point, it was my mind neglecting to believe what my heart already knew. I lived with my boyfriend Ronny, 5 years but we'd been together for 7. We erected our own little life in that apartment. And according to me, we were off to build an empire together. I met his 3 beautiful daughters from his previous marriage. Something I never thought I'd do, but once I did- I was all in. I molded myself completely to that relationship and gave it my all. Everything that had to do with his girls, I wanted to do. The weekend trips, the school plays, birthdays, even drive an hour and a half to Beaumont, CA from Los Angeles after working my two jobs in a day so he could see them for a couple hours, I wanted to go. Heck yeah, count me in.

That day something was really heavy on me. And it was growing heavier by the minute. I had this gut wrenching feeling that Tony was with someone and there was nothing I could do about it. He had recently purchased a recording system-thing. A real one, expensive. To begin creating podcasts and videos talking about mental health- something he had been struggling with for some time. He said to me he was leaving for the weekend to focus on recording some content and took all his equipment with him. At first, I didn't think too much of it because I-the lover of being alone and spending time with oneself to regroup and recharge and relax knew how needed that sometimes was. And as we used to get away a lot, I thought it might have stuck with him.

For the longest time, I knew we were growing apart but somehow it always felt we made our way back to each other and still had that connection, that we could make it through anything.

The feeling I felt this time was so different. It was a cocktail of insecurity and doubt and betrayal and anger that just wouldn't go away. I tried as best I could to stay sane, to stay on the page in my life that was taking place in front of me-my niece Ruby and my pets, it was supposed to be a worry free day that included ice cream and a good meal along with some smiles and dirty paws.

I have absolutely no idea how I pulled through, but I made it. There was very little to no contact between he and I that day only because I didn't want to confirm what I already knew and concretely ruin my own day.

Upon dropping off Ruby at her house, I didn't want to go home. I had to have a drink, or two or five. I made it near my building and kept driving in circles around the block until I decided to call my good friend, Rene. Without mentioning what was going on in my head, he agreed to pick me up and we went to a bar. Where we sat and ordered drinks until the bar closed. I remember having eaten very little that day so I knew I was in for the ultimate hangover tomorrow but it was okay. I needed to feel something other than what I was feeling.

As night continued to fall I made it home. Yes tripping on the stairs that led to Apartment #3 on the second floor. When I let myself in, I lost it. I started crying hysterically and screaming into my pillows quite frankly. Where was the communication? Where was my sanity? Where was he? But most importantly, who was he with? I remember calling his phone about 50 times and sending him drunk text messages for like an hour, one after the other. He got back to me very surprised and very off and very angry. But why? where was this anger and defensiveness coming from? A woman's intuition is very rarely, wrong.

I very clearly remember laying on my bathroom floor fully clothed, trying to calm down but still actively crying wishing the ground would sink me in. I lay there until I realized I was in my own bubble, and hadn't noticed my little dog Gia also known as Joe was staring at me the entire time. She honestly looked like she'd been crying too. She just stared. It kind of made me feel a little embarrassed that my "child" was watching me cry this way and could see the amount of pain I was in. I mustered up the strength to sit up and as soon as I did, she jumped on my lap and began to scratch my chest as to pick her up so she could lick my face.

We both sat there on my bathroom floor, on a misty early March morning alone in apartment #3. That little dog has seen me through so much. She's literally been there for me when no one else has and has joined me when my life has fallen apart. Why wouldn't she be there for me now? There aren't any words that can explain the bond that became stronger that day.

It's an understatement that a dog is a man's best friend. She's a woman's life companion more than a human. Gia and I have been in each other's lives for over a decade now, and our bond in unbreakable. When heaven gives you a dog, cherish them. Sometimes, they are the only ones who will love you unconditionally and see you through it all. I wouldn't trade this connection for anything else. Even when she leaves me in the physical form she'll never leave my heart, and I'll always remember the times where my little dog pulled me out of the darkest places via wet nose and dirty paws.

I love you, baby Joe.