She chose me before I knew how to choose myself. There is something undoing about being loved by a creature who has no reason to lie.
I didn’t go looking for a dog. I simply wanted something to hold, something that would stay still long enough for me to catch my breath. Daisy found me. When nothing was left, no reason stay, she arrived.
She asked me to stay.
There is a particular kind of love that asks nothing of you. Not your best self, not your most presentable version, not the one who has it together. Daisy loved the version of me that sat on the kitchen floor at 2am eating cereal from the box. She loved the version that cried in the car. She loved the version that forgot to shower for three days.
“She loved the version of me that sat on the kitchen floor at 2am eating cereal from the box.”
I have spent most of my life trying to earn love. Performing for it. Shrinking for it. Contorting myself into whatever shape seemed most likely to be accepted. And then this small creature arrived and simply — chose me. Without audition. Without conditions. Without the fine print I had always assumed was there.
What do you do with a love like that? At first I didn’t trust it. I kept waiting for the catch. I kept expecting her to figure out that I wasn’t worth it. But she never did. She just kept showing up, tail first, certain.
I am still learning what to do with being chosen. I suspect it will take the rest of my life. But I think that’s the point.