The Split

"Tera, be serious.  You can’t walk away from five years of marriage over something like this.  It doesn’t make sense,” Jason said, standing in the doorway.

“I am, it does and I’ve explained it to you. You just aren’t listening.  Not that I would expect anything else for you at this point.”

“Don’t give me that,” Jason’s fist slammed the doorway.  “It doesn’t make sense.  You’re leaving me because Maxwell died?”

“You really don’t get it do you? From the moment he came into our lives you were jealous of him.”

“That’s bullshit!”

“No, it’s not.  Yes, Jason, I loved you both, but my God, it was a different… there was no reason for you to be jealous.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying. You can’t leave me over this!”

“Yes, I can,” she said, ducking past him into the apartment hallway.  “You want it spelled out in black and white for you, then fine.  Yes, he relied on me more.  I fed him, nurtured him, right from the start.  He knew I loved him.”  She sighed deeply.  “I loved him, and he loved me.  Unconditionally.  Something you aren’t capable of.”

“I love you Tera….you don’t know how much.”

“No, I do know and that’s the problem.  It’s not a healthy love.  I won’t be controlled by it anymore."  She turned to face him when she reached the front door.  “It’s dangerous and Maxwell died because of it.”

“Tera, it was an accident, damn it!  It wasn’t my fault.”  He jammed his fists into his jean pockets.  “He just ran into the street…”

“I know Jason. I know what you told me, and I know what I saw as I watched from the window.”  She met his surprised gaze head on.  "Ah, now you get it.  Yes, he ran into the street, but only after you threw his ball.  Dogs do that you know.” 

###

I remembered writing this piece while Steve and I were vacationing in Maine this past August.  As we walked, hiked, ate in restaurants, took a windjammer cruise and did all the usual tourist activities, what struck me was that couples brought their dogs everywhere.  The importance the dog played in their relationship was obvious and I got to thinking that instead of the dog being a pet (albeit a very much loved one), it was actually more on the level of an equal partner in the relationship. I wrote this piece years ago for a writing class and the assignment was to write a break up scene of 400 words or less entirely (I almost made it) in dialogue.  At the time, the reason behind the split seemed a remote one, but after Maine, it suddenly seemed quite plausible.  With that in mind, I thought I’d share it as a lesson learned for me in how a piece’s impact and relevance can change over time.  (Please note:  Steven and I love dogs, have had them in our families all our lives and I am in no way shedding any disparaging attitude towards dogs or the place they have in our friends and families lives.)