Warmth

There was this feeling I would always get when I would look at my dog when I was younger. My dog was a schnauzer and in my eyes he was the most precious being in my life. I used to experience something quite odd at times when I would gaze at him, this kind of warmth around my heart. It was almost as if my heart clenched from the overwhelming feeling of love I felt towards him, and it was the most unique sensation as I was only ever able to feel that way with him.

When I look at her, I get the same feeling of overwhelming love and gratitude that she is in my life. She made me complete, and helped me heal from my own troubles. She was the most beautiful girl I have ever seen. Her ashy brown hair went down just below her jawline, and it was messy, going in all different directions. It reminded me of my urge to run my hands through it. It was now wet, the snowflakes in her hair were drying off, and she looked so dreamy with her red cheeks and nose that appeared from the cold. She was smiling and beckoning for me to come and sit with her by the firepit in our little cabin in the middle of Nova Scotia, buried under the snow.

Everything was gentle about her, graceful, beautiful. She suited her name. Dove. With skin so light, she reminded me of Snow White, and with eyes so dark that they seemed limitless, immortal. She was sitting on our wooden floor, warming her small hands by the firepit, humming quietly to herself. The ring on herself was reflecting in the light which made my lips curl into their limits. I couldn’t believe that I had the honor to call her mine. She was the sunshine of my life, spreading light as soon as I would wake up and see her. There was something surreal about her, a wonder as to how somebody could be so perfect, which she was. She would forgive me for every mistake I would have made, and when I asked her why, she would say “It’s because I love you”. She was there for me through my hardest times, even when I wasn’t there for hers. She would show up whenever I would plummet into my worst moments, just like this one, this moment in the cabin where I was cleaning my boots which are covered in snow and mud, when I felt my worst, when I felt the loneliest, she would come.

We sat on the couch watching something on the barely functioning TV hanging on our wall. I had a beer in my hand, whilst she didn’t like to drink, and she didn’t like me drinking, but I promised I would never get as bad as I used to get. The snowstorm outside of our cabin was getting stronger, and the whistle of the wind sounded like more of a scream. It felt amazing to be in the warmth of our small cabin whilst looking at the apocalypse that was happening outside. It was unreal to feel the warmth that Dove gave me every time I would gaze at her, that one of a kind feeling. She was sitting next to me, hugging her knees to herself and faintly smiling at what she was watching, her face looking so angelic, I never wanted her to leave me and I thought to myself How could have I ever agreed that it would be okay for her to leave me? There was just one thing that hurt me, it was the fact that she was never there for me when things were going good for me, when I was happy, and when I was with other people. I wanted to show her to my friends, introduce her to my family but I was never able to, she couldn’t meet any of them. That hurt me. I wanted us to be normal.

“Are you overthinking something again?” spoke her quiet voice.

I always thought how it was unreal the way in which she knew me. She always knew when I was hurting and when I would start to get anxious which would inevitably lead to me crying for hours with her at my side. 

“No”, I lied with a smile.

She chuckled at my distorted face. I never understood how she could love somebody like me.

“You don’t have to lie to me”.

And I know I didn’t have to, but I never wanted to worry her with the way I was feeling, because it was enough to have her by my side. 

The dinner I was cooking in the kitchen, which was right next door, was almost ready. For Dove, my father and I. The table looked beautiful, just like every other Christmas Eve dinner we had done so far. My father woke up shortly from his slumber to celebrate Christmas. There was a tree in the corner of the living room of the small cabin, and there were three presents wrapped, one from me to my Dad, Dove, and one for me from my Dad. 

I didn’t expect my father to get angry with me, but he was shouting. 

“Why would you make so much food? You’re wasting everything we bought, you know we can barely afford bread! It’s just us two here!”

It hurt me, the fact that he would always ignore Dove and exclude her from everything we would do. He never wanted to acknowledge her. It ruined the Christmas Eve dinner for us, as all three of us sat in silence eating what I had made, with me trying to supress the tears and forget about the words that my father spoke to me. 

We soon moved to the living room where the presents lied. We were all sat on the couch with quiet Christmas music playing in the background. Dove was sitting on the edge of the couch, with my Dad intensely staring at the gift I had wrapped for Dove, with her name written across it. Dove was faintly smiling at me, suddenly I felt all the warmth evaporate from me whilst my Dad softly spoke to me: “Tom, have you not been taking your medication?”