The Dog That Kept Me Here
I hate to admit that an animal literally saved me from myself. When I would spiral and get lost in my thoughts, he would ground me and bring me back to the present. He kept me going in more ways than I can even admit to. There's no shame in that, honestly. If it weren't for him, who knows where I would be and who I would be with. I thought I was protecting him, but he protected me from the last person I thought I ever needed protection from— and that was myself.
This animal that invades my space and thinks he's a lap dog when he's too big to even be one. Brings me peace in the mundane tasks that he forces me to perform for him. He reminds me of the beauty in everyday life — that we all take for granted. That I was taking for granted.
Long before I learned how to take care of myself, I learned how to take care of him. And on days when that was all I could manage, it was enough to keep me here.
Stay a little longer
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