Why Do I Resent The People I love

I already knew he would need to stay.

His apartment has too many stairs. The dog had just had surgery. There was no other option. And I knew it before he asked.

That first morning, I walked into what used to be my guest room and stopped.

A mattress on the floor. A large dog bed in the center of the room, still stained from the surgery. My kitchen counter — the one I keep clear, the one that is mine — is covered in cups, medications, pill bottles, dog food, and an empty cookie container. My own dog barking behind a closed door, trying not to disturb the one recovering.

I stood there and felt it land.