A Wolf in the Dark
The chilled air in the room caused me to shiver, shaking loose the liquid orb from my skin and sending it to conjoin with my pillow. Another tear followed the trail carved by the first and joined its brother in the soft fabric. There was no one reason that I was weeping alone in the darkness of my room. Rather, it was a collection of things. All the little problems I faced day to day were filling my thoughts and spilling out of me through my tears. Night was often hard for me. Something about the end of the day brought out the negative aspects of my life and cloaked the positive. This night, though, was worse than most others.
The computer screen blurred through my tears as I lay in my bed. There was just too much stress. University, family issues, a small support base: it was all taking energy from me until I felt overdrawn. My normally active tail lay still, and not even my foot twitched as it usually did. The only motion came from my slow breathing and my tears succumbing to gravity. I didn't even browse the web as I usually did at this time at night. All I did was stare, unseeing, at the computer screen before me.
Eventually, my bitter thoughts grew too much for me, and my lips drew back as I let out a quiet sob. I turned from my side to my stomach and burried my muzzle in my pillow as I shook with sporadic sobs. My mind was stuck like a broken record. I couldn't find a way to solve my problems, which only fueled my despair. My eyes shut as tightly as I gripped the pillow as I fell victim to my grief. I was alone in the dark, a small candle blown by a strong wind. I was sputtering in my life, tossed by the winds of change without harbour or even an anchor to secure me. I tried to steer to safer climes, but felt like I had lost my compass. I no longer knew which way to turn. And so my ship was tossed, and I slowly drowned in the salty water of my tears.
I cannot tell you how long I lay there, heaving out muffled sobs into my pillow. There was a clock in the room and the time on my computer, but I looked at neither. Eventually, though, my ears perked as my computer made a chime. Someone had signed on.
I raised my tear-stricken muzzle to the screen and blinked to clear my eyes. After a moment, my eyes adjusted enough to read the screen. My expression remained wretched, but my heart leapt a little as I saw who had signed on at this late hour. I went to click on the name, but suddenly a window opened, beating me to the punch. Three words were written in some neutral typeface at the bottom of the box, but those words were enough to bring the hint of a smile to my wolfen face: "Hello, my love."
The problem with instant messaging is that you have to respond with words, but the wonderful thing about words is that they can denote action. I knew he would not hear me speak the words but rather see them acted out when I replied with "*throws my arms around you, burying my head in your shoulder*"
We were almost 7000 kilometres away from each other, yet I could feel his arms around me as he returned my embrace. An ocean separated us, but I could hear the concern in his voice when he asked me what was wrong. He was eight hours in the future compared to me, yet he went out of the light to cuddle with me in the dark. I was the metaphorical night to his day, but he lay down beside me and chased away the shadows of despair. If I closed my eyes, I could feel his strong arms around me and his stomach fur merging with the fur on my back. I could hear his gentle reassurances as his lips brushed my ear. I could smell his calming scent. I could taste his tongue as he kissed my muzzle. It was only words and astericks on a screen, and yet it was everything to me in that moment. I was no longer alone and scared. I was no longer on a stormy sea, tossed by the wind, but rather on still waters in a safe habour. As he nuzzled me and licked my neck, I could feel the stress dying away. It was not entirely forgotten, and some stubborn threads of melancholy stuck to me, but I felt a hundred times lighter. A gentle smile lit my countenance. My tail started to slowly wag behind me and my ears came forward again. I was calm again.
My eyelids started to droop. My breathing began to slow and quieten. I didn't realize it, but I was falling asleep now that I was freed from my worries. My last conscious thought was, I love you, my mate.
I won't go so far as to claim this story to be a one hundred percent accurate retelling of any portion of my life, but it certainly reflects reality. This story is dedicated to my beautiful mate who has helped me through so much despite the relatively short time we've known each other. I'm sorry I drag you through the valley of darkness with me, but thank you for bringing me safely out again.
This story was also written with two songs in mind: You Raise Me Up, as performed by Josh Groban, and How Sweet It Is, as performed by Michael Bublé. I've listened to both songs countless times and love both of them. Both now inevitably make me think of my mate. So, after listening to them once again, I decided to stop and take a moment to write this story to thank my mate. And I know I put sad in the tags, but that's really only the start of this. It ends happily, especially for me.
Anyway, I've hoped everyone else enjoyed my work, too. It's shorter than what I usually write, but I like it regardless. Although that may just be spillover from the happiness I get from just thinking about my mate. So please leave comments and constructive criticism. Hell, just let me now you've been here and tell me something about what you think. I feel better when I know people have read my work and have something to say about. So please leave a comment! *puppy dog eyes*
Oh, and as a post script. Sorry, Babe, for all the times I've fallen asleep on you mid-conversation. The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak. Love you.