"I'll show you mine if you show me yours first
Let's compare scars, I'll tell you whose is worse
Let's unwrite these pages and replace them with our own words"
***
It's been three weeks since my mother turned up at my apartment and I still haven't heard from, or tried to speak to her.
I don't plan to either, while it crushes me, sometimes just because something hurts doesn't mean it's bad for you.
I'm trying to remind myself I didn't actually make a choice, she's the one that made a choice and she chose herself.
It doesn't make it easy, but then again, change isn't comfortable, and I guess that's what I'm doing through right now.
I do have one comfort though, and that's Harry.
Things are by no means perfect, he can't just magically become a brand new person over night and I don't want him to, but he's trying his hardest to work on things he wants to, I just want to support him.
He's mainly just wanting to understand his emotions recently, maybe understand himself a bit more too.
Now that he's figured out what happy feels like he's like a little kid with it, when he's feeling it he points it out excitedly, like he's just painted a masterpiece and showing it off, it doesn't matter if the moment is big or small.
I was walking around his apartment in his shirt the other day, and he just stopped me randomly, smiling and had said.
"I know why I like you in that so much now, well, one of the reasons"
"Why?" I had asked smiling at him.
He stuck his chin in the air like a proud puppy, grinning before he said "Makes me happy"
I can't explain the feeling I have, that I have the piece of mind of knowing he knows what that feeling is now, whether it's about me or not, it's just something I want him to be able to have and I could cry like a baby over how over the moon I am for him.
He's a work in progress, but we all are, that's what being human is, I don't expect him to not make mistakes, only to learn from them.
That's all you can ever really ask of a person.
It's amazes me, and also shatters me when I sit and think about it, how deprived from love and affection, from kindness and care he must have been that the second he got a glimpse of it he's clung to it with a death grip and is terrified to let go of it.
The glaring similarities between Ludo and Harry become more obvious every day, especially when he comes to my work nearly every day to see him.
It's become a routine for him now, he even helps with his training and rehab. Harry seems to be the only person Ludo really listens to or looks for approval from. He can even sense when Harry is going to get there, because he usually always comes at around 3pm, on the days he doesn't have work to do before he goes to the club.
And at 3pm everyday, you hear Ludo start to whine in his kennel, his tail slapping against the cement until he sees Harry walk up to his door with whatever bag of treats he's brought that day.
Ludo is getting a little fluffy around the edges, but when I mentioned to Harry that Ludo was getting a little chunky he scowled and put his hands over Ludos ears, saying I was going to hurt his feelings and he's not chunky, he's just cuddly.
I feel like they both teach other every day, Ludo is getting a lot better with his aggression and we're learning what a lot of his triggers are.
Harry looks so proud of him, every time he hits a new milestone, or works past one of his traumas, learning to trust and socialise more, Harry admires him - whether he admits it or not, you can see it on his face.
How fascinated he gets watching Ludo be so resilient, still so loving and trusting even after the awful things that were done to him.
I can't talk to Harry much, about Ludos past or what happened to him, the details, he becomes far to enraged and to be honest I'm scared he would actually try and track the owner down, he's become so fiercely protective over him.
I'd be lying though if I said there wasn't a part of me... That almost wish he would do that, I'm trying to justify to myself why it would be wrong but after reading the report, and listening to the vet about things that were done to that poor dog... I'm finding it harder and harder to have any empathy for the person that done it.
Maybe because it reminds me of Harry, the way Ludos owner tortured such a sweet boy and made him so scared and violent when all he wants is affection.
And that's the only word I have for what that man did, torture, it was abhorrent, evil and unforgivable. And to think he only received a fine and a ten year ban from owning a dog, I'm still trying to understand how that was fair, the way the law works confuses the hell out of me sometimes.
Harry has slowly but surely been helping me piece his puzzle together, one he doesn't even really know how to complete yet, but I'm hoping I can help him find the puzzle pieces he doesn't know exist yet, or ones he's buried deep inside.
Like the fact that I know he is a kind person, it's something he naturally wants to do so badly but his moral compass has been thrown into the Bermuda triangle and he's not sure where to place that kindness, that gentle nature and he's not sure who to trust with it, aside from me apparently.
He's only had one nightmare, or night terror, whatever you would call them in the last two weeks.
Unfortunately it was a terrible one, I feel more helpless every time they happen.
We were at his place, and it ended up with his bedside table being tossed across the room, and I had to barricade the door again to stop him leaving, willing him back from whatever hell goes on in his mind.
He wasn't the same for about two days after that, he went back to a shell, it was like the lights were on and no one was home, like his mind couldn't handle it and he just checked out.
The day he came in to see Ludo, brought him back though, and I wish that dog could realise how special he is for that, that like I wish Harry would realise that about himself too.
The night he had his nightmare, he was muttering about his medicine again, after he managed to drag himself out of the fetal position on the floor after yelling in agony to make it stop.
At first I thought he meant drugs, but when I asked him about it, I found myself wishing it was drugs he was talking about.
He pointed out that he hasn't taken drugs in over a month, the last time he touched any where when we had that fight and didn't see each other for nearly a week.
His relationship with drugs confuses me, his non chalant attitude and ability to just have that take it or leave it attitude with them, although he did mention that he was a lot worse with them until about five years ago and from the age of about 14 until 21 he doesn't think there was a day where he was sober.
He said they became more recreational after that, but he binged on them when he couldn't cope with what was happening to him.
I wish he understood the kind of willpower that takes, to just make the choice to not take them, and it's not something most people can do. However, I know the drugs aren't the problem, they're the symptom, they're the alleviation to the pain he's in and while ever he has that there's always the chance he could hurt himself and that's what needs to be helped.
As much as I love the fact that he talks to me as much as he can now, god help me I dread the answers.
He explained that when his father would hurt him, he would say he was giving him his medicine, like he was treating a sickness he had, it was his punishment, and he was always told something was wrong with him that needed to be fixed and that was his father's way of doing that.
He still won't go into detail about what his father did, and I don't want to push it, I know it would be excruciating to talk about and I can't ask him to willingly emotionally break his bones just to cure my wondering about it, he'll tell me when he's ready.
But that bit of information alone had me losing sleep.
I remember him saying about taking medicine the night he threatened Andy, when he locked us in the bathroom and the blood I had noticed on his shirt which I'm realising wasn't part of his 'costume'.
The more I've read about PTSD and trauma, and the effects it has it makes me think that when things like that happen to him maybe he becomes violent, maybe that's why he gets scared of hurting me when he has his nightmares.
I don't know if it's fighting people or what he's doing but it makes my heart ache that all this time he was desperately trying to find something to soothe that much pain, and all he knew was violence, but all he really needed was someone to hug him... He needed someone to not hurt him, help him feel safe.
I became even more enraged when we spoke about David again, after the subject came up from him calling my mother which Harry was furious over, however it was what he told me about David that had me the murderous one for once.
He said that, David was the one that gave his father the idea for his 'medicine', even though he didn't say exactly what it was, he mentioned that when David was younger he was in the army, and said he would show his father how to make a man out of him, because Harry was a 'wimp', he was weak and needed to 'toughen up'.
All I got from that is that they tried to beat the kindness from him, and I find some solace knowing they didn't succeed, it's still in there, even if Harry doesn't know it.
What kind of monster does that? Honestly, looks at his best friends child and invents ways to torture him?
I asked if David had hurt him and he said no, but he'd watch, he was the brains and his father was the brawn.
I found myself wishing that when Harry had done that job he spoke about, ruining peoples lives David had of been one of them, this vengeful feeling is so strange to me but that man is an unspeakable awful.
So, I may have made an anonymous accidental phone call to the Fair Trade Ombudsman, informing them that Sullivan Medical Inc, were knowingly lying to and misinforming their customers in their medical insurance contracts.
About a week later there was an article in the news about the company being investigated, and the CEO David Sullivan had been put on forced leave for a month while the case was being looked into.
Maybe David can use to the time off to take a nice holiday, go to the beach maybe.
I heard the water is lovely this time of year.
You fucking prick.
I thought Harry may have been angry at me, when I told him what I had done when he got home from the club and I showed him the news article.
I got the complete opposite reaction, he looked shocked at first, just stared at me in disbelief before a devious smirk pulled on his lips and he lowered his eyes at me saying.
"That's my girl"
And I ended up being pounced on and pushed to the ground near the entrance with my underwear flying off before his head was buried between my legs then next thing I knew I was being picked up and fucked violently against his front door until I nearly lost my voice, he barely gave himself time to undo his pants.
I've heard Harry say some dirty things, but the things that were leaving his mouth that night still have my stomach twisting.
It's still taking some getting used to, that we are in a relationship now, from both of us because neither of us have had a relationship like this before.
Harry hasn't had one in general, and I've just never experienced anyone like Harry.
Our dynamic isn't really that different at all, we are just taking each day as it comes and learning.
I know that we are going to have struggles with it at some point, it's inevitable, he's learning how to ride a bike and haven't really taken the training wheels off yet but that's okay, if he falls off I'll just help him up and we can try again.
I had an idea recently, well I've had several, my mind constantly works non-stop with ways that I could offer Harry some kind of help with what he goes through or try to replace his awful memories with good ones.
But, I'm hoping this one will help his confidence, and help him be proud of something important to him and show him that it's special.
It's a Friday, and we are sat in Ludos kennel while he lays over Harry like a love sick teddy bear, sprawled on his back with his tongue flopped out while Harry rubs and scratches his 'cuddly' tummy.
Ludo has Harry completely wrapped around his paw, you can see it a mile away.
"I wanted to ask you something, you can say no but... I thought it might be something you'd like to do" I say, feeling anxious as I watch the two boys in front of me that have completely stolen my heart.
Harry looks up from staring at Ludo, with that same goofy smile he always has when he looks at him now, and nods at me "Sure, go ahead"
I chew on my lip, fiddling with my fingers as I clear my throat "Well, we are having a fundraiser auction for the shelter in January it's a bit over a month a half away, and we are getting people to donate artwork, any kind really, it can be sculptures, photos, paintings - anything"
Harry watches me fondly, his lips quirking at how nervous I look "And you wanted me to donate to it? Don't look so nervous love, I'd be happy to, how much did you need?"
I shake my head quickly as my brows shoot up, waving my hand at him "No no no, I don't want money. That's not what I meant."
He raises a brow at me waiting for me to continue and I wet my lips, before rolling them into my mouth "I uhm, I thought maybe if I got you the stuff you needed for it.... Maybe you could uhm frame some butterflies, like the one's you keep at home and I could get some special frames for them, and you could donate those - I'd never want you to donate the ones you have at home, I just thought maybe if you wanted to, you could make some for the auction because they're beautiful and I really think people would love them"
Harry doesn't react at first but his hand pauses on Ludos stomach, that is until Ludo let's out an annoyed whine and Harry rolls his eyes and starts scratching him again.
You're so fucking whipped, don't you dare try and deny it.
He looks down to Ludo in his lap, creasing his brows and pursing his lips, before glancing at me "You think people would really like it? They wouldn't think it's stupid...or weird?"
"I think they would love it" I assure him quickly "Lots of people collect those sorts of things, and you know so much about it, and do it so beautifully and it's even better that they'd be going to people who just want to help the dogs here. And I'd love to show how proud I am that you make them"
Harry looks to me, giving me a shy look but trying to hide it with that lopsided smirk "You're proud of them?"
"Of course I am!" I burst a little too enthusiastically, and try to reel it back in, covering my cheeks as I give him an apologetic look for my outburst.
Harry just grins at me, his eyes lighting up while I shrug sheepishly "Well, I can't really brag about it to anyone except you, because I haven't told anyone about it because you trusted me with it but I'd really like if other people could see how special it is too"
"Have I told you lately that I'm crazy about you?" he asks as leans his face to mine, kissing me, even if it's an awkward kiss with the smile breaking out on his lips but I don't care, I'll take any kind of kiss from him any day.
I laugh against his lips, mumbling "Not really, you have called me crazy though"
"Mmm that's cause you are" he teases as he pulls back to look at me, before shrugging "It's alright though, my crazy likes your crazy"
I give him a playful offended look, and he just scrunches his nose up at me before sighing "Alright, I'll do the auction"
"You will?" I gasp eagerly, grinning like a dork as I clasp my hands together in front of my chest like I'm five years old.
He nods, looking over my face and flashes that cheeky dimple at me, but I can tell its just to cover that emotion I see flare over his eyes "Sure, can't say not to you. I'd do anything for you little mouse"
***
"If love is a labor I'll slave till the end,
I won't cross these streets until you hold my hand"
***
The state of my heart because of this story: