I never thought I’d end up being a fucking teddy bear, but here I am with her, it’s different.

It’s been a rough week. Her childhood dog, Ivy was put to sleep. And I swear, watching her cry the way she did that night... it cracked something open in me. She tried to act tough, holding it all in like she always does, but I saw it. In her eyes. The silence was deafening.

Now, every night she climbs into my bed like I’m some giant comfort blanket she never asked for but won’t let go of. I let her. I want her to. I don’t say a word when she wraps herself around me like I’m the only solid thing in her world. She tucks her face into my chest, warm breath against my skin, and whispers things like, "Everything’s too quiet without her.” or, “It’s like the house forgot how to breathe.”

She tells me she can’t sleep without the sound of paws on the floorboards. Can’t even look at the empty food bowl. So yeah, I let her cry on me, squeeze me, fall apart. I hold her tighter every time. I kiss her forehead and tell her it’s okay to miss something that loved her better than most people ever did.

Sometimes she clutches at my shirt like it’s the only thing anchoring her to earth. I don’t complain. Fuck, I live for that closeness. For her trust.

And I get it, I really do. I don’t like the darkness either, not the one in the sky, or the one that sneaks into your chest when grief knocks. But if being her stand-in for safety, warmth, love- even if it hurts sometimes, means she breathes a little easier? I’ll do it. I’ll keep doing it. I’ll be her fucking lighthouse in this storm.

Because she’s my girl. And when the world turns cold, when the shadows creep in too fast, she deserves to have something or someone solid to hold on to.

Even if I don't like darkness, I’ll walk through it for her.

Every. Bloody. Time.