LOSING THE SUN
The poem “Weighing the dog” by Billy Collins is one of indescribable pain at a personal loss experienced by the persona. In as much as the dog has been metaphorically used to imply specific loss, it gives room for indulgence and deep reasoning unto which a reader can personally relate. It is within the intricate spacing of the detailed poem that I am through this paper to tell of a personal loss. A loss of a best friend, Aaron, more than a friend it might have been if I had opened my eyes sooner but a precious person in my life nonetheless.
Aaron met me in a storm. Harsh winds and cold raindrops on the rainy Thursday afternoon. A ghastly storm that had me stranded on my way home from school. We had sheltered in a coffee house, seated on the only bench available, two strangers whose only common thing might have been the drenched clothes and lousy attempts at ignoring each other. In essence, I would say, it felt awkward for me and bewildering for him when I finally said hello (Collins). The first laugh, he laughed at my shaking arms and bought me our first coffee together. It was friendly, warm, and comforting. Especially, when we tried balancing our weights on the shaky bench, cups of coffee on our hands and promises to call one another (Collins). He was from my school, though I could hardly remember seeing him before we met in that shop. Looking back, changing a single thing about that day would be fighting against fate. The meeting was unavoidable, changing a chance meeting would be a denial of a chance of joyous memories. Even if after all those memories comes the pain, the kind that grounds you numb for a while before you can realize what has been feeding at your soul.
When Aaron said he had begun to see me in a new light, as someone more than a friend and possibly a future if it could be manifested, I balked at the professing of love, thinking I could make him wait a while longer till I could calm the feelings within. Like training him to sit obediently on one spot while I could mull over the decision he wanted me to make (Collins). He had taken me to our favorite spot in the park, right by the olive tree, where he would sit and paint while I tried to read a book. I remember we had known each other two years till that day, taking regular walks weekly and even having worked at the coffee shop we first met in, together. He had been so assured as he professed his feelings, holding it to the long friendship we had. We had spent many events together, so much that people had already taught us more than friends. Maybe the people had seen what we were before I could finally grasp it myself. However, it seems it was never possible to have him with his tongue out, waiting for a cookie he might never be granted (Collins).
With his pencil and paper, I tried to subtract my feelings a little, to see whether writing them down helped to make me understand what we could become better (Collins). In the process, I kept him out, avoiding most of our meetings believing creating space between us would make him change his mind. It was fear in starting something new that kept me from realizing the wrongness in pushing him away. In staring something we both could not walk away from once it started, we were fated to either be happy or get hurt in the long run. We got hurt before we comprehended the extent of our friendship.
Aaron left our little town a month later, having graduated and off to see what the future held for him in New York City. He left having waited a whole month with no forthcoming answer and a friend who kept canceling on his plans. Sometimes, I lie to myself that it did not have to do with my leaving of him on so many occasions (Collins). His departure, however, showed me the truth, because I was finally able to understand I never figured out what he amounted to being around me so much (Collins). I took advantage of his being around thinking he would always be around, just waiting. That was until he separated himself from our combination, doing what was best for him, after trying so hard to let me see the good in him (Collins). There was pain, the kind that tears cannot fully drain away that hovers around waiting for a never coming release. In the days after his leaving, I finally understood how much he had held me in his arms more than I ever had carried him in mine. Mostly through my most awkward and bewildering moments, similar to the time, we had met (Collins).
Now we are both in strange and distant areas, coping with life how best we can, without each other for the company (Collins). The distance helped because we both have learned how to go on without the other. Embracing the new norm that we delved into, by creating circumstances we could not handle. We talk once in a while but our talks have vagueness and lack the warmth and the humor we previously had. Talking helps though because I can finally put my anxiety to rest, knowing he is well and fine. We talk about, Chloe, his girlfriend and am happy the fun side of him is finally showing. With time, my fun side is going to show too, only it will not be with Aaron.