They say time heals all wounds. Well, so far, the pain has not even subsided. I am not crying all day at my desk and that is only because I am forcing myself not to. I was talking to someone at lunch today, a compassionate person. It was nice to know that others feel compassion for all living things as I do. I knew it would come up, Dunkin's story and my story as I watched a squirrel accost a woman for her purse full of peanuts. What did I expect, this is Manhattan.
I cried in front of a stranger for lunch. I did it this weekend at the basenji meet up as well. Toy poodles jumped on me as if I had some secret poodle treat. They hung around me and my lap as I told my story to 2 women, dog owners. They both had tears in their eyes. It pains me to see people react that way and then I remember, wait... this happened to me.
As I am sitting on the bench at lunch and I feel the sting. My chest and abdomen sting, like an open wound with alcohol being poured into it at a steady rate. The pain I feel for Dunkin' not being in my life due to the horrific actions of S.D Soto and his fellow DPS officers astounds me. I feel like the fabric of my soul is torn and tender, exposed to the moment, to the pain that is my loss of my dearest best friend on Earth. It feels as if someone is pouring on the pain, the sting sets in my chest and burns from a place that is deeper than any heartburn anyone has endured. This reaches my spirit and twists it in its most vulnerable stage. I hope I can get over this pain... until now, time has done nothing for me.