If I could bark 


If I could bark, I would say thank you. I would apologize for putting this in a blog post you’ll never read, for selfishly publishing this to everyone but you, for making it seem as if I’m saying all of this for my own gain, and not because I need you to know these things.  If I could bark I would ask if you’re okay. I would ask if all the personalities I’ve projected on and perceived from you are correct, I would ask what you wanted to do, though after six years I think I’ve got a pretty good idea of the things you’re up for, but I will admit your recently discovered love of fishing took me by surprise.  I would ask you if you ever get bored, because sometimes it seems like you do.  I would apologize for that too, and explain that I’m kind of an inherently boring person.  I would admit that I’m perfectly content just existing somewhere with you, that a day’s worth of head scratches are all the entertainment I need because they’re the catalyst to all our good memories.  I would explain myself, why I’m gone so much, how even though I’m graduated I’m not home all the time like I thought I would be, like I promised you all those nights you fell asleep staring at me while I did homework into the twilight hours of the next morning. I would ask you how you feel, because you turned six this year and it really worries me.  It made me think you might not live forever, and if I could bark I would make you promise that’s not true, that you’ll be here after I’m gone so my kids can be friends with you too, so my wife can have you by her side, because I have to go first. If I could bark I would tell you how sorry I am for how many times I neglected you.  I would ask for forgiveness for all the nights I left you alone to go be with people who haven’t shown me the kind of friendship you show everyday.  I would tell you how sorry I am that we were brought together at a time when I was so unstable, and that I’m still trying to figure it out.

I would also tell you how grateful I am for that timing.  I would tell you how much you’ve done for me, how you joined my life at the perfect moment.


I would tell you about how turbulent these six years have been, that so much of that turbulence was at my own hand, and I would thank you for staying with me throughout all of it.  I would thank you for continuing to fit perfectly into my life, especially now that things are so good.  I would thank you for always being exactly what I need, whether it’s motivation, friendship, or empathy.

If I could bark I would ask you how it’s possible to possess such a depth of traits that I fall so short in.  I would ask you how you can be so patient, so understanding, how you can have so much faith in me when the only belief I have of myself is total confidence in inevitable failure.  I would ask how it was that you recognized and welcomed someone I barely introduced you to, how you knew this person was what both of us needed, how you knew your role in strengthening our little family so perfectly.

I would make sure you knew that I’m always trying.  I would tell you how hard I try to articulate myself as best I can, so you know the depth of a pat on the head or an invitation to sit in my lap on a road trip home.  I would clarify any miscommunication, when I confused or hurt you, because I know I’ve hurt you. I would apologize for any time when I was too quick to anger, how it was never anger at you, it was always at myself for failing.  I would ask you what I can do better, what you wish you could do, because I made a bucket list but I don’t how much of this stuff you actually want to do.  More than anything else if I could bark I would say thank you, I love you, let’s go outside.

Posted in Me

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