It, like me, was always changing. I knew it had always been with
me, and that it had been growing the whole time. One day I woke
up and wasn’t able to put my arms around it.

For a few days after that I thought I had lost control of it. I
didn’t take it for a walk along the beach like I usually did;
what if it went feral and attacked someone or scared small
children by growling and lunging at them, or worse, defecated
everywhere and I had to clean it up.

I tried to feed it less than I usually did in an attempt to
reduce its size. This didn’t work as well as I hoped; in fact it
continued to grow. It was now almost too large to squeeze
through my front door.

I decided to move it out to the garage while I still could. I
converted the garage into an environmentally friendly single bed
unit. I tried to make it “future-proof”, installing all the
latest conveniences. It cost me more money than I could afford
but at least I could keep it nearby.

Despite all my efforts there was a problem with the new
lodgings. Not being a qualified engineer I failed to allow for
the extra roof load from the solar hot-water unit. After a small
downpour of rain the roof fell in. It survived but it was badly
injured; some might say, “broken”.

Fortunately it mended quite rapidly. It explained to me a theory
it had: if something was broken it can nearly always be fixed,
but it would never be the same again.

After a few years of taking care of it, without collecting any
rent, we began to argue frequently. I felt like we were growing
apart. It had “let itself go” and was no longer attractive to
me. I no longer cared like I used to. I began to feel regret and
even resent. I wanted it to move out.

One day, during a fit of rage, it turned black and began to
shrink and give off a rather nasty odour. The next morning it
was gone. It had taken almost everything with it.

It was almost five years after that until I saw it again. I was
walking down the street with my new girlfriend. It was walking
toward us with it’s new partner. It was looking very healthy and
happy. You could still just make out the mark where it was
broken. Our eyes met briefly and then we both looked away.
Nothing was said. After we passed I gazed over my shoulder back
toward it, and saw it doing the same toward me. We both kept
walking away from each other.

I felt was a fleeting moment of joy in that it was now happy. I
hope that it had similar feelings about me. I just hope that the
new-found happiness would last, for both us.