The Missing Person

So now I am home.  The husband joined me at the Duck Inn for the last 36 hours of my visit, but the weather was so miserable that we were somewhat housebound most of Saturday.  He slept and I put together a puzzle I had picked up at the Goodwill.  Good times. 

With all the thinking I had been doing about our issues, I had sort of been dreading the husband's arrival.  I was sure we were going to end up having a Discussion, and I spent a considerable amount of time formulating my plan of attack, mostly so that it wouldn't look like an attack.  It turned out I never got the opportunity to approach the subject.  Some of the time we were having decent moments in each other's company, and it seemed out-of-place to start a conversation that was almost guaranteed to become a confrontation.  The rest of the time, we seemed to instinctively avoid each other.  Perhaps we could feel the confrontation looming, and just didn't want t go there.  It got me thinking whether it really WILL be worth it to go there.  Maybe the status quo--peace and distance--is better than any alternative we could come up with by hashing it out. 

But I'm just so...lonely.

For a whole week, I was more on my own than I have been in many years.  I have mentioned many times over the years how AOL journals came out of the blue to rescue me out of an extremely lonely time in my life--the time after my dad's death when my family gave me the heave-ho and my husband retreated into his job, leaving me with...not a whole lot.  I rode the wave of those internet friendships through that tough time, and even most of the way through my trials at the restaurant.  I've been especially regretful of the distancing of those friendships.  But those relationships have been steadily declining for a long time.  Why, I've been asking myself lately, do I feel SO much more isolated these days?

The answer came to me in a flash the other day, in the parking lot at Cape Lookout.  I had just returned from a vaguely unsatisfying solitary walk up and down the beach, and back through the ancient forest.  As I approached the lot, I saw a little red SUV parked a few spaces down from my van.  At the rear of the car, the passengers were prepping for their own walk on the beach.  The woman pulled up her hood, checked her gloves, took stock of  her walking buddy's gear, reached into a plastic bag and chucked a treat to her companion--that being a beautiful Aussie shepherd on a nylon leash.  I took in the little scene...and burst into tears.

That is what has been missing.  My traveling companion.  The one who took her place  in "her" back seat for thirteen years, and let me drag her to wherever my demons chased me.  My watchdog, who would have happily hidden behind me while I dispatched any danger we might encounter on our exploits.  The one who looked after me by giving me someone to look after besides myself.

Oh, lord...I miss my dog.

Do you think she would mind if I considered sharing my adventures with a new friend?