I’m talking to you, my twelve -year-old self, the kid who thought love was forever. You remember the day we bought our dog? You named her Jennie, with so much care, and without realizing it, you gave her a piece of your heart too. She wasn’t just a dog, she was your comfort friend, the one who waited for you every day. You grew attached so fast, and you thought she would always be there.
Then, one day, she wasn’t. After a few months, Jennie ran away, and you never understood why. I remember how quiet you became, how the house felt empty even though everyone was still there. You searched for her in every sound outside, hoping it was her. You were sad for days, maybe longer than you admitted. You blamed yourself sometimes, wondering if you learned for the first time how much it hurts to lose someone you love without a goodbye.
‘But listen to me now, because there’s a moment you’ll never forget. Seven months later, on a night, you’ll see something lying in-front of the door. You’ll think it’s just a cloth because its dark and Jennie was black in colour. You’ll call father, and when he turns on the torch light, there she’ll be, Jennie sitting there, sitting there tired with wounded eyes, looking straight at you like she never left. She’ll be covered in wounds, and your heart will feel happy and sad at the same time. Happy because she came back, sad because of what she went through. That moment will teach you that love can get lost, but sometimes, if its real, it finds it way back to YOU.