Floyd

Let’s talk about Floyd.
He is pretty, cool, collected and emotionally detached. A flare of fancy fins, moves and bright colors he had me mesmerized at first look.
But let’s be honest… Floyd is a rebound. And like all rebounds he may be pretty and charming, but the emotional connection just isn’t there.
Bruce and I had a connection. He was happy to see me every morning, threw his pebbles at me when I forgot to feed him, got sad when I went on vacation. It was a good 3 years together. He followed me to my new job, and as always was a hit. His classy little name tag “Hi my name is Bruce” earned his way into the hearts of passerby’s and somehow even got me christened as “Bruce” in the office. Unfortunately, like all good things it came to an end on that fateful Monday morning I saw he was doing the backstroke and looking a little pale. It was a sad flush that morning, and to be perfectly honest I’ve never been more grossed out in my life. Blech.

But then I met Floyd… At first… he didn’t have a name. For like month. I just couldn’t bring myself to name him, create that connection. I threw around a lot of ideas, Steve, Hal, Sparky…. Nothing stuck and I’m not even sure if Floyd is really the best name but here we are. I’ve tried mirrors and pictures of fish to get him all wound up, but nothing seems to work. Finally it seems we’ve reached an understanding. He no longer ignores me, and actually swims to my side of the bowl when I come in the morning, waves his little fins with happiness when I feed him and even started throwing rocks at me when I forget to feed him.

Maybe, just maybe we can learn to love each other.