My Sweetest Friend

He hears the things I don’t even say, he knows if I’m breathing
in a different way.
He stands still and watches quietly and I know 
enough about him to know he’s not just there idly. 
He’s waiting patiently. 
Observing whether or not I need his rescuing.

That’s what I like about this one, among many things, he’s keen on my weaknesses but I think 
he may be even more aware of my strengths than I am. 
Much like God. 
He’s particular 
with his rescuing because even at my most depraved, desperate, depressing stage, he is sure. 
He is sure of the fight in me. As I need him to be.

I can’t say that I recall this 
nearly eerie 
emotionally therapeutic nature in the one I’d known before. 
What I do remember from the original is love. 
Love that was constant, unconditional, unwavering.
Much like God. 
The original was there when I was unaware that I 
needed him to be. 
I was much younger then and growing up and 
busy with me. 
Fortunately for my heart and soul that selfish nature I once allowed to control never swayed him. 
The original one saw my heart and made it better.
Much like God.
This one I love today is nothing like the ball of sun I’d known before.
This one I love now is 
the darkest thing I’ve ever seen that draws me so very closely to the Son.
Opposite in color scheme the original d-o-g
is my sweetest friend.
He stands by me 
unexpectedly when we’re not 
on duty. 

He follows closely, 
checking on me, well aware that I have a tendency to fall apart suddenly when 
no one is around.
Despite the unpredictably he makes sure to stay, cautiously monitoring, 
stepping graciously through the field of most likely active land mines that
I’ve left behind.
He will not abandon me. 
He makes a way through the chaos, a gorgeous way.
He makes a path through the pain that is straight. 
He knows from my own words just how much it hurt to lose the one I had originally when he was nine.
He knows what a lie it is when it’s just he and I and I say I’m fine. 
He also knows to stare me down if I’m too dependent on the numbing comfort of wine.
The dark side of me doesn’t seem to phase him, maybe because 
he’s dark too. 
When I forget what it is I need to do, it is him who reminds me, he keeps a close watch on this heart of mine.

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