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The other day, I read a comment on my post, "Please start grief support circles for pet parents too." And I loved that idea, but the thing is, I still cannot talk about it.

With pets, your body remembers everything. There is so much muscle memory.

My hands question me: why aren't we grooming paws anymore? My hands ask me, what do I do with the skill of feeding medicines to her in one go? Why we aren't mixing food for her anymore? Why don't we have nail scratches from her excited jumps?

I don't have answers. It breaks me.

I wouldn't know how to hold space for someone else because it still haunts me.

It took me a trip to another country, to travel a distance this far so I could look at your lies and sit with my truth. I am not lying to myself anymore. Some realisations come to you unannounced. Some times in the middle of the ocean, on a drive uphill. I sat with all my emotions for him, and heard them speak to each other. I was the only one in love, he only walked in and out. I dont think I should have ever been in love in an empty home.

I added fairy lights to things that kept breaking, I kept preserving them and called it vintage love. It wasn't. They were broken pieces that could only leave cuts on my skin, and they did. It took me so many cuts to realise I should have walked out that door.

And I know I can't, because I don't want to. I always saw love stories where lovers fell apart, they were torn apart, I heard of stories, of relations that parent's wouldnt approve of, where society wouldnt approve of, I knew of all such stories - I just never thought I would be living one.

Because I also knew stories of when love won, I also saw stories where you fought for love, where you waited and waited, and never gave up. I also saw stories that felt like they were written right out of fairytales, and I always believed that was true. I always believed in those kind of stories. I look so well put together, you should see how I break when I fall, and I always do, but I now know how to pick myself back up. I didn't want to, but now I do pick myself back up, but I just don't know what to do of this love, where can I put it down?

And you stand there carrying everything they might need. You are on your toes, peeping through the glass door because it aches to leave them alone.

I've been there twice, first for mom, now for Bubu.

We used to walk out of the room, and she would sit next to the shelf where her treats and meds were kept. I'd wipe her eyes clean first, apply some oitment, and offer a treat. I don't know what to do when I wake up now, I stay in my bed longer. I've lost my anchor. I can't throw away her eye ointment. There's a routine attached, and my body still remembers it.

My hands reach out to pet, to caress, to hold. I miss her scent. My feet are careful as I get out of bed, not to step on her. There's no one. My feet still pause. It's when I open any food pack. No footsteps come running to me. She's not there, I still wait. Its when I open the door to receive an order, my foot reaches out to stop her so she wouldn't go barking at the delivery person. How do I tell myself not to do it?

How do I tell my hands we can’t caress her anymore? How do I stop looking for her? There's grief in my body, it's in my routine. It's in remembering the yearly vaccination dates, knowing the time to deworm. It's in taking care. How do I tell myself that there's no one to take care of?

There's grief in every corner. It lives quietly. My body hasn’t learned that she’s gone.

There's always a love story that dies. Maybe I thought it took us ages to meet again. Maybe there are more ages to go before we meet. Maybe there's a next life waiting for us to come together with everything aligning. Maybe we'll be from the same caste, same city, same surname and then it'll all be a piece of cake, everything will seamlesly fall into place. Maybe then, i won't be so far away from you. Maybe then I'd want to marry you at 22. Maybe then I'd love you and propose to you. Maybe then I'd call your family mine. Maybe then, I won't die in silence. Maybe then I'll save these tears. I'm sure there is some lifetime where we meet.naybe this is not the one.