Visions of a man and his dog

This story comes with a dedicated playlist, check it out on Spotify.

---

Our giggling mass of bodies spilled out of the elevator and straight into the rooftop party. Our emergence into the throng of people was met with cheers from those already gathered under the stars – cheers which erupted each time the elevator doors opened, emptying new revellers out of the air conditioned building interior and out into the summer night’s air.

On any other occasion, we were all just a neighbourhood of strangers who quietly dwelled in the little apartment boxes stacked beneath our feet. But that evening we were brought together by a common, joyful purpose – it was new year’s eve, after all. What better night to throw off the shackles of introversion, individualism and the forced politeness that comes with high-density living? What better night to learn from the mistakes of the past and declare our aspirations for the year to come? Though I suppose most of us were also high on something else that night – drugs, alcohol or just an enviable ability to ride out a general lust for life.

Everyone was beautiful. There were smiles everywhere, enthusiastic gestures, sequined dresses, glittered cheeks and laughter cascading over the edge of the building into the streets below. Somebody had put fairy lights up all over the awnings, barriers and benches. One group of people was sprawled on bean bags, while on the other side of the roof, past several garden beds, I could see kids running around their families. And beyond them all were countless other apartment buildings. Mini neighbourhoods filling the landscape as far as the eye could see, all the way to the sparkling city at the end of the horizon.

I joined my friends as we weaved our way through the conversations, flowing like oil paint in water. I couldn’t help grinning at the sight of my friends as we jostled with our drinks away from the elevator and towards an area with more space for Luke’s wheelchair. Huong with his long black hair tied in a bun and his numerous long colourful beaded necklaces. Necklaces which draped in Luke’s lap as he leant over to give Luke a deep kiss. Luke with his black nail polish, standing out on his fingers wrapped around Huong’s face. And Inez. Inez with her favourite yellow dress, the one she only wore for special occasions.

These three were my favourite people, and not just because they had saved my life.

It had been something like three years since I had fallen into such a bad headspace that I had needed them to take turns doing suicide watch for me.

Inez had picked me up from the hospital and brought me her mother’s home baked sweet bread. She knew how much I loved her mother’s baked sweet bread and I had cried tears of joy and shame all at once. Joy at the love I felt, and immense shame at the pain I had put her through. Luke had been there to patiently stroke my hair while I sobbed into his lap. I don’t know why I sobbed so much, but I could be gripped by an episode of darkness which would have me crying for hours in those days. Huong had answered the messages on my phone that I couldn’t summon the energy to look at. He monitored my medication to make sure I was taking the right doses at the right time.

Luke, Inez and Huong had not only been there for me during that part of my life, they had stood beside me every bumpy day since. Despite everything I put them through, they were still with me.

As I stood there smiling at them on the rooftop, music, conversation and hot summer air swirling around us, I felt tears begin to well. Even though I was in a much better place and had been for a while, the memories were still raw.

Huong must have seen me reminiscing because he came over and squeezed my hand. I smiled back and said I was okay, but I was more than just okay. His reassurance meant the world to me.

He pointed down at my socks and we both started giggling like children – just an hour earlier, he had been trying to work out how his hands had been turned into pictures of pink flamingos, only to realise that he had put my flamingo-covered socks on his hands. Acid sure is a wonderful drug.

I turned to make room for a person passing by and that was when my eyes landed on the man with his dog. He stood with a beer in hand, looking intently at his peers as they spoke. A beautiful, chocolate brown kelpie was sitting against his two dark, tattoo-covered legs, appearing unperturbed by all the partying happening around them.

It had been years since I had been drawn to someone or attracted to them, since long before my first admission to the psych hospital. But there was something familiar about him which added to the pull. A pull which made my heart race, but a familiarity which filled my heart with warmth. I was completely sure that I had never seen him before in my life, but I couldn’t explain why I swelled inside, why looking at hime felt like I was looking at home after a long time away. It was a strange, almost nauseating sensation.

The longer I had watched as he absently knelt to pat his dog, not breaking his focus on the conversation, the more my vision came into focus. The more I saw him laughing and pushing his glasses up his nose, the more my mind had begun to clarify.

I glanced back at my friends, but before I could ask if they knew him, I was struck by an image of him standing right in front of me. A memory of something which had definitely not happened.

*

We hug as though we have been through wars without each other – fervent and strong. We have been apart for weeks, but finally he is back in my arms. We pull apart briefly to see each other’s faces. His eyes are welling, glistening and red. My hands are cupping his head and I use my thumb to brush the tears away. He smiles and leans in for a long, passionate kiss, stopping only so that he can pull me closer with a tight embrace. It’s like he can’t decide how to physically express how close he wants to be, and I know exactly how he feels. I wrap my arms around his stooped head as we hold each other, his face warm against my shoulder and our bodies pressed together.

Around us there are planes loudly taking off and landing, the smell of jet fuel and the sound of wheeled luggage. But I close my eyes against it all. It’s just us. He shudders slightly and I want to cry, too, but I stay strong because I’m holding him and that’s all that matters.

I stroke his head and we begin to calm and soften with the reassurance that being close brings. As his breathing slows down, he leans back and looks into my eyes, wordlessly playing with my hair and smiling faintly. He sniffs and I kiss him, long and deep. I have missed his big squishy lips so much. We are one again.

*

The vision ended. The music, laughter and conversation on the rooftop under the stars enveloped my sense once again. Huong’s hand was holding mine and He was still there with his dog, talking to his friends and not seeing me. Not recognising me.

Tears came unbidden to my eyes at the abrupt change in emotion: from the energy of new year’s, to the poignancy of lovers reunited, to excitement once again.

I knew that I hadn’t seen Him before that night. But when we had embraced, it had been with such longing. There had been nothing platonic or restrained in the depth of our gratitude to see each other, to be together again. It had been so real.

I felt myself staring and quickly looked away. I let go of Huong’s hand and excused myself to go to the bathroom. But when I closed and locked the door, muffling the sounds of the party behind me, I found myself distracted by my reflection in the mirror.

At first glance my face looked normal – blonde hair, dark eyeliner, swallow tattoos on my collarbones – everything in order. But then the image began to distort. My cheeks became too rosy, I could see veins and blood pumping and undulating under the skin, and the fly-aways of my hair were swaying in a halo around my head.

I looked down and saw that the scars on my forearms were moving. They were a visible reminder of how I had once tried to maintain a tether with the real world, to control the thoughts of suicide from swallowing me whole. But in that moment, they were trying to wriggle out from underneath my skin and into the open.

I clasped my forearms with my palms, holding the scars in place.

Luckily someone knocked on the bathroom door and I hurriedly left before I could get more trapped fixating on my weird, exaggerated, swirling features.

I stumbled out onto the rooftop once more. Luke and Huong had managed to make friends with the bean bag crew. They were lolling on top of each other, giggling, and trying not to spill their drinks.

And He was still there, too. Did I catch Him looking at me? Did He recognise me or was it just general interest? Or worse, had He noticed that I had been staring at Him?

Inez motioned me over to where she was talking with a new group of people. Evidently the distortions on my skin had ceased as neither she nor the crowd she was with said anything. Instead, Inez linked her arm protectively in mine without pausing the conversation.

Unencumbered by our interlocking limbs, Inez used her hands to gesture and punctuate her story-telling. She had the group engaged in an energetic conversation about the ethics of penalty rates for casual workers – something about the history of the labour movement. She had an amazing capacity to talk to complete strangers, like they were already old friends.

I envied her a little, but nowhere near as much as I loved her. She was a star among the masses and I would do anything for her.

I took a deep breath and focused on the moment. I could hear the music pumping in the background and vaguely thought that I recognised a local band I had seen a few weeks back at a gig. I leant up against Inez, closed my eyes and let the voices and vibe wash over me.

*

I’m in bed and slowly relenting to the existence of looming wakefulness. I will need to open my eyes at some point soon. But first I snuggle under the smooth covers and closer to his warm body in an attempt to prolong the comfort of my sleepy haze. I don’t need to open my eyes or look to know that he’s awake and quietly reading beside me. He normally wakes up before me.

I lie there for a time, my forehead touching his upper arm. I wish it could shield me from the world, from the responsibilities of daylight hours. Maddy, his ageing kelpie, is curled in a ball on the end of the bed and I can sense her warm softness with my feet.

We didn’t used to let her sleep on the bed, that’s not what working dogs should do, he said, but then Maddy got cancer. She’s been sleeping with us ever since. I don’t think about how many more mornings I have left where I’ll get to feel her comforting presence through the doona.

I roll over and open my eyes so that the first thing I see is his face. No matter how many times I wake up this way, I can’t get enough of the sight. How lucky am I? I am never so happy as I am in these seconds of waking. My field of vision grows and my eyes breath in the picture of his naked body partially covered by the sheets. He’s irresistible and when I reach out to touch his chest, he looks down at me and smiles his beautiful smile.

I feel safe, warm and loved.

*

This time the snap from peaceful awakenings to New Year’s Eve revelry was such a shock that I gasped – the vision had been an eternity away, yet I hadn’t even finished taking a breath there on the rooftop. One minute I had been at peace in the dawning light, and the next I was surrounded by people and sights of the glittering city beyond.

I closed my eyes, but the memory was still there.

I opened my eyes and cautiously looked back at Him.

I had to do something. I had promised myself this exact same night a year ago to never be ruled by fear again. I had to honour that.

Decided, I gently extricated myself from Inez and turned to face Him square on across the rooftop courtyard. I knew what I had to do, but perhaps I hoped that pausing just one moment more would help give me the courage I needed.

I was going to talk to Him. I was terrified because He was an attractive stranger and didn’t know me yet, but I was also completely at ease because He was the one who had sobbed in my arms. He was simultaneously completely unknown and intimately familiar to me.

Just as I was about to take a step, Maddy sat up and looked right at me. She kept her big, brown-eyed gaze on me, her tail wagging as I approached and stood next to Him.

He didn’t notice me at first, so I tapped Him on the shoulder.

“Hey.” I said.