Time Gone By

I stayed by his side, taking care of him as best I could for three years. Then, on his twenty-fifth birthday, I told him I was leaving. He roared that if I dared to leave, I’d better never show my face in front of him again. I smiled, agreed, and sincerely wished him well. But in the end, he was the one kneeling before me, begging me not to go and pleading with me to stroke his hair one more time!