Almost Empty

I am financially poor. For too long. This experiment, this vow of poverty I chose provided some of the most extraordinary lessons of my life, but for now, years later, the strain of poverty is sapping my essence, wearing me down, wanting to rob me of my spirit, silencing laughter and choking joy, and I am concerned.
How poor, you ask? This is how poor... this is how ridiculous.
I cannot afford flea medication for my dog. She has fleas. I know it. I watch her scratch all day long. Not to the point of causing psychological or physiological harm, but admittedly she’s got a few fleas.
One evening, quite unknowingly, I devised a plan to help her plight best I could given my numbing, nefarious, ever encroaching lot in life.
Lying next to her, momentarily retreating from my woes, I draped my arms across her, inadvertently attracting the fleas to some new, warm blood. And they came. Oh yes they did.
Alone there in the dark I would eventually feel the telltale prickling of the hairs on my arms then I would sit up, quickly turn on the light, and there it would be, tangled and negotiating its new host. In turn I’d snatch it firmly between thumb and forefinger, leap up from the bed, then scurry to the toilet and flush the pesky bugger to the hinterlands! This process went on for several hours, becoming a game. A necessary game in some sad, twisted way, too, once I realized I was providing her relief in the only way I could afford! I don’t remember how many I vanquished, but a goodly number. That evening color me a scurrying, flushing fool, achieving satisfaction on a most tragic, pitiful scale, but satisfaction nonetheless. Despite my current state I was able to -at the least- bring relief to my faithful companion in the only way I could, giving of my time, my efforts, my body, doing so with a love of her with all my heart.
It is my wish without hope that someone would do the same for me, extend unconditional love, provide me a feeling of temporary calm and relief, if only for a moment, just a simple tender heartfelt moment, relief from the pressure of this road less travelled whilst I continue to hoe my row ...and make no mistake about it, continue I will, relief or not.
On this occasion I’m reminded of the words of Jean Paul Satre’ which ascribe you must recognize your aloneness in this world, depend on nothing or no one and you’re one step ahead; bleak words, bleak words I don’t or can’t totally subscribe. But at the heart of that statement, I will admit, he’s right, because without you and you alone taking charge of your actions, your destiny, one can be assured not a soul on Earth will lift a finger. Not one. But one will and does, and he is currently present and involved, though not of this Earth, and it is exactly that one in whom I trust.
As tired as I’ve become, I shan’t give up... Hope remains, so does faith, a belief in myself, and for now those are all I have in the world. In that, I am rich, the poorest rich man I have ever known; the bank’s walls bulge with my brand of currency.
My dog isn’t scratching anymore, but yet again, despite my bulging walls, I’m short on rent. And I’m not fucking laughing.