What not to do on a lonely Saturday night...

I should never read over messages shared between me and a former owner, let alone on a night when I'm home and feeling lonely.

I read the words. I see the offers I made to remedy what turned out to be an untenable situation. I see me begging over and over for boundaries and clear expectations. I see me clearly saying again and again that I didn't want to cause the family grief, that I didn't want to be in the other woman's position. I remember the pain of each word and the thoughts that ran me ragged.

Then I remember holding his face between my palms, kissing his lips and closing my eyes in pain the moment he said he loved me. The shock of the admission widened his eyes and set my heart thumping. That the words came at the end of a very painful weekend made me weep when I was alone and could consider them.

I remember packing my bags after an abortive day at an event in Baltimore. I remember crying in the car on the way home. I remember the pain of leaving him behind.

I admit that I miss him sometimes. I miss his friendship the most. I wonder that from the day he said he loved me to the day he took my bird and gave me his collar was only a month and I wonder how he was able to do that...to let me go so easily. I wonder if he misses me.

And I wonder if she ever understands what she asks him to give up each time she drives someone out of his life. I wonder when she will stop living a lie and start living a life. I wonder if she truly doesn't see what her actions do to him. I wonder...