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Alvie promised me time, but clearly, we have different interpretations of what that means.
The next morning, I wake up to a picture of a sunrise from him atop Pop Rocks on their morning ride. Then the next day is a photo of the cattle grazing on the land by the river on their property. The day after is a video of Alvie putting some of the new ponies through their paces in the arena.
It goes on like this for weeks, a text every day with something else that makes my heart warm, and the fog dissipates, even if it’s only a little.
I keep telling myself the tightness in my chest and the tears that lurk behind my eyes are part of the process after experiencing heartbreak, but the clinician in me knows this is more than just a case of the blues. I can feel the cloud of depression setting in, and it feels inevitable.
Selene does her best to keep me in high spirits, but her energy can be too much for where I’m at. She tries her best to make things better, but it’s not always possible. Sometimes, you just have to sit with the uncomfortable feelings, ride the waves, and hope that in the end, you find yourself in calmer waters.
She does encourage me to talk to someone, though, to reach out to Durante and find someone who can help me wade through this overwhelm of both feeling too much and nothing at all. But therapy is a long process, and my first appointment has me feeling almost worse off than before after filling the therapist in on everything going on in my life.
The daily texts from Alvie help more than I care to admit. Truthfully, sometimes it’s the only thing that makes me smile all day.
He never sends any words, just the photos and videos. It’s like he’s checking in with me in his own way. He’s leaving the door open for me to step through and talk with him if I want, but there’s never any pressure.
His persistence pays off when he sends me a video of a new puppy and the first words he’s said to me in weeks.
Alvaro: She needs a name. Any ideas?
I click on the video and watch as a feisty little puppy runs around the arena, burning off energy by trying to herd Pop Rocks, who’s standing still in the center. Pop Rocks looks like she couldn’t care less, all while the pup is having the time of her life.
Another photo comes through of the puppy with its black ears, nose, and paws. She actually looks a lot like the dog version of Pop Rocks, both having light-gray fur with darker brown and black spots speckled about.
Alvaro: Is Spot too . . . spot on?
I can’t stop the cackle I let out and a huge grin takes over my face.
Naomi: She’s really cute.
Alvaro: She really is.
Alvaro: So . . . name ideas?
Naomi: I don’t know . . . Names are really important. It has to fit just right.
Alvaro: It’s a dog, bunny. Not a child.
Naomi: Omg! Children are even worse. Like, they’re stuck with it unless they choose to change it. It helps shape their whole identity.
Naomi: What if you scar this dog permanently by naming her something like Karen?
Alvaro: Then we just don’t name her Karen.
Naomi: What breed is she?
Alvaro: Texas Heeler, they’re a mix of Australian Cattle Dogs and Australian Shepherds.
Naomi: She looks so much like Pop Rocks. It’s like they’re meant to be friends. You should name her something food themed. Like with the horses too.
Alvaro: Oh? Like what?
Naomi: Maybe name her, like, Cookies and Cream because of her coat? Milkshake?
Alvaro: I like Milkshake. She definitely brings all the boys to the yard. :rofl emoji:
Alvaro: I’ll get her a tag for her collar when I go into town.
Naomi: Doesn’t Bex get a say in naming y’all’s dog?
