The man of my dreams        

As Dreamy turns ten in three months, I have been thinking how much he has changed my life for the better. Before I adopted him, and he adopted me, my home was tidy, and I was lonely (although I didn’t want to acknowledge it). Then on March the 31st, 2018 my life began to change.

He could not be left alone for more than an hour without becoming distressed. He ripped numerous beds, mats, and other items, chewed on door frames, and scratched doors and walls. I never knew what I would find when coming home. At the end of the day when I walked in the door to the laundry, I would hug him until his breathing slowed and he relaxed in my arms.

One cold, wet, and windy lunch, I watched him through the window as I was about to head back to work. He was sitting under the pergola, on a mat. With his chin flat on the ground and sadness in his eyes, he let out a big sigh. His misery was obvious to me, and my heart broke. My house was a mess, and I was an emotional wreck. This living being could not be controlled, he wanted me. Eventually, I gave him access to my bed which smelt most like me.

I felt angry with him for destroying the life I had perfectly set up. He had walked over my personal boundaries. My bedroom was a sacred place to me and now he owned my bed. His desperation for security and my strong desire not to give up on him eventually broke me. We needed each other and I opened my heart to this big, gangly, fawn, furry beast and I fell deeply in love. His persistence broke down the walls I had created to shield myself from pain. He taught me how to receive and enjoy love without fear of criticism or jealousy. He gave me the touch, hugs, and warmth of another being, without me taking the risk of asking for it.

Now, those things that had infuriated me, are those I treasure the most. I had been taught to hate my body and told as a child that I stank, but he loves my smell. I was afraid of being touched because of childhood abuse and misunderstanding in adulthood, but he wants to be close to me. As a child and an obese person my time was often not sought, but he wants nothing but my time.

Sometimes my love for this precious boy is misunderstood, but I want you to know that as someone who has been intimately abused, the love and closeness we share has been deeply healing. He just wants to be with me, and he is gentle with my heart and soul.

I hope our story touches you as much as it has changed me for the better.

In love, Jenny

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