A couple days ago, I wrote about my newfound comfort in Harold. Since I wrote about that, I've been doing some more thinking about it, and the other night, this past Sunday night to be exact, another scenario played out where Harold was of great comfort..... Well, would've been if I could have gotten to him. Let me explain.....
For those of you that read my previous entry, remember how I said that Harold had sat on my dresser in my bedroom since midnight on the day of December 12th? Well, on the particular night that I had set him on my lap while I was reading, there was a point where he fell off, and I had Fergie pick him up. After she put him in my lap again, because I wasn't tilted back far enough, he fell off once more, and once more she had to pick him up for me because no one else was available to do it. By this time she got done picking him up for the second time, as you can imagine, he was pretty wet with Fergie slobber. Just as she was completing the task of putting him in my lap for the second time, my mom walked in, startling me, which in turn caused him to fall off for a third time. As he tumbled to the floor that third time, I asked my mom to pick him up. She obliged, and when she felt how wet he was, she decided to set him in front of the small fan in my living room so that he could dry off. I had no objection because I was going to ask her to do that anyway.
Which brings me back to Sunday night. It was about 12:30, and I was settling in with my radio for the night/morning. As I started listening, my thoughts started drifting to Chan probably because of the songs that were being played at that moment. All I could think about was how much I wished he was there with me to snuggle up, and communicate without ever using a word. As a result of the fact that logically and realistically I knew that wasn't possible, my thoughts immediately drifted to the alternative ways in which I could get that fulfillment. Harold, I thought. With my spirits brightening, I glanced over at my dresser, thinking that if nothing else, Fergie could get him for me, and I wouldn't be alone any longer. Glancing up, I realized with great dismay that my stuff pink puppy had taken Harold's place of honor. Harold was still sitting in my living room window next to the fan where I had left him days earlier. There was no way I was going to be able to direct Fergie to what I wanted with me being in the bedroom, and Harold being in the living room. She's good, but I assure you she's not quite that good! 
Coming to that realization in that moment really sucked, because had I had the ability to hold him, it would've brought me as close to Chan as I could possibly be, and that would've made the radio scenario one of perfection! 
Oh well, I guess I'll just have to remember to tell whoever is with me the next time I'm ready to go to bed to move Herold to his place of honor so that if my thoughts drift back to Chan again, and I'm positive they will, and he can't be with me in the flesh, at least Fergie will be able to bring me as close to him as I can possibly get in that moment!