My boyfriend has had this pet bird since he was a kid. Big, white, fluffy thing that would always puff up like a pissed-off cat whenever it saw me (which thankfully only happened at Thanksgiving and Christmas as it lived with his family, not with him). He once confessed to me, "That bird was the only thing in this house that told me it loved me when I was growing up."
It died today.
Boyfriend is a wreck, and strangely enough I'm crying too even though I really couldn't stand that damn bird. But I know it's not about the bird - it's about the fact that this person I love feels pain, feels sorrow...and I'm powerless to take it away.
