Is It Depression Or Heartbreak?
I walk into an empty Subway shop. There is no one in the front. It is late at night. Wails and sniffles and high pitched speaking resonate from the back. It is definitely a woman’s voice. No one talks back. This is a sure sign someone is on the phone. I try to make out a word. I can’t. It sounds like Urdu. I don’t know Urdu.
I wait another few minutes. No one comes out. Some places have a bell you can ring for staff. But not this shop. I play with the keys in my pocket. They jingle. The crying voice quiets. I hear footsteps. Could I be walking in on a dangerous situation? I tap my phone till it lights up so it is ready to dial 911.
A young woman comes out. Tears swim down her face. “I am sorry, my dog died,” she says.
“Oh I am so sorry.” I say.
She wipes her tears and puts on disposable gloves.
I slip my phone in my pocket.
Losing a pet is indeed heartbreaking. But I recall the pleading tone in her voice. It sounded like she was imploring someone. It sounded too familiar. This was not the sound of pet loss; this was the sound of being broken up with.
I mean it could have been a myriad of other things. Family problems. She could have been begging her father to let her study in another city. I remember a friend crying for weeks when her…
