Gods
How much can a person change in one year?
The more years you think you have, the less you change. The fewer, the more.
I think that's why I found it so difficult to change—with so much time ahead of me I could afford to keep saying I'll do this or that once I reached that point in the future.
I'm pretty sure that was the point of Once, maybe it's time I watch it twice.
You keep lying to yourself until you run out of currency. The debt becomes too big to ignore, but you're too old to want to do anything about it.
There's no more time. At least, it feels that way.
My solution was to get a dog, not that that was an intention I could possibly have been aware of. These things just sort of happen, not because you want them to but because they must.
You find it's not too late, you become responsible for yourself by being responsible for something else.
You learn to love that something else more than anything else has ever loved you.
•••
To me they are like gods, little four-legged deities who are able to condense a lifetime of experiences and lessons into a very brief part of your short life. And if you are able to overcome that immense heartbreak of all heartbreaks, that loss you cannot measure, it will get easier the next time (supposing there is a next time).
It's understandable why people don't get another dog—they're afraid they can't endure it again. To be fair, it hurts just as much ...
... just not in the same way, since you have changed.
Changed for the better.
•••
