I opened my eyes just like any other day; blinding.  It takes me another fifteen minutes before I’m actually out of my bed and ready to face the day.

What kind of day is it going to be?  Is it going to be another day that I can’t hide from anything?  Or, is it one of those perfect ones where I just blend into my surroundings and just disappear, hiding from the world?

I push myself off the bed and drag one foot at a time to the bathroom.  Archie, my little spaniel, plays follow the leader, following my step with four of his then ultimately running circles around me before I reach the bathroom.  I bend down and scratch the back of his ear and his hind leg twitches uncontrollably.  There’s the spot.  Feeling that split second of attention is enough, I softly nudge him away.  Defiantly, he pushes his body into my legs.

I point into the bathroom.

“You want a bath?”, I mumbled in tired Chinese.

Fearing what might happen, he scurries away.

I turn on the bathroom light and the chaotic whirring of the bathroom fan screams.  I shake the noise out of my ears and focus on the reflection before me.  Nothing’s changed.  Still the same frown lined face that I see every morning and every night.  I quickly open the medicine cabinet and retrieve my toothbrush; leaving the medicine cabinet open as I brush.

Archie watches me carefully from outside, waiting silently for me to finish.  I call him again for a bath and he runs away again.  So cute.  The only thing that ever pays me any attention.

I spit and rinse, it still doesn’t feel fresh.  It never feels fresh.  Never that burning sensation that gives you a sense of security that the toothpaste and brushing actually did its job and actually worked.  Maybe that’s why I’m single.   Halitosis.

Finished, or finished enough for me, I do what I usually do next.  I take a sit on the throne, relax my bowels and hope that it is a good movement.  Sometimes I don’t even hope for a good movement, just any movement.

As I sit there pushing, I watch Archie watching me.  I start to think whether he loved me unconditionally the way that pets do or if he only likes me because I feed him, or that he actually doesn’t like me at all but really tolerates me because he has no choice.  I watch him carefully, thinking if he’s plotting to escape from me when he gets a chance.  He’s making notes that when I take a shit and if the opportunity presents itself, he’ll run and I’ll have to decide to wipe or chase.

Then my thoughts turn to a happier time in my life; a simpler time.  I was about eight or so.  Things were just so much different back then.  How twenty years or so can change someone.  Who would have thought?

I had this turtle back then.  It was a small little box turtle that I caught at the local lake.  I named it Donatello.  It wasn’t very original, but c’mon, I was eight and Donatello was like the coolest Ninja Turtle.

Thinking back about it, warm huggy feelings swarm over me.  Thinking about how happier I was back then.  I really wasn’t that much different than I am now.  But, I actually knew things then instead of the constant doubts that I have now.  But looking back, I actually did think that Donatello did love me unconditionally even though I turtle-napped it from his home.

Archie starts to lick himself.  Some love.  Selfish is more like it.

Donatello was only a turtle, I know, but he was everything to me.  He was my world.  I was a shy kid, but he didn’t care.  He’ll chase me in the backyard, albeit slowly, but it was fun.  He would eat the veggies that I left out for him and stayed in the bucket that eventually became his home.

He was all I needed.   I didn’t need any friends.  He made me happy.  I was just a shy lonely kid with an active imagination.  Donatello was a giant lizard that was stomping Tokyo and all I can do was watch in horror.  He made life bearable.  He made me feel safe in this world, bigger than I actually was.

I was actually needed, loved.  His life depended on me, well my parents who provided me with the food, but through me, Donatello was fed.  I was actually someone then, the person that took care of Donatello.  Now, I’m not much of anything.  Just another face in the crowd.

Archie gets up and walks into the room, out of sight.  Maybe he needed more privacy or maybe he’s tired of looking at me.

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