Monday, 17 September 2012

I love you, B-ber!

Our dog B-ber just died. They found him this morning so I suppose he died last night. And I guess it’s sort of a good thing that I didn’t have to look at him lying dead on the ground since they buried him immediately. I wouldn't be able to take it. I'm sure I'd breakdown.

I keep on wondering if I was still awake when he heaved his last breath. I don’t remember any noise or disturbances that would indicate his death. I can’t even say for sure if I heard or imagined any noise or something.

Writing about his death sucks. It’s just so sad. I’m not sure if I should really make a big deal out of it, but it is a big deal! He was obviously sick for a few weeks but we assumed it wasn’t really something serious. When the cat got sick he was so sick and thin and deathly that we assumed he’d die. But he (the cat) didn’t. Maybe cats really have nine lives.

I feel so guilty I didn’t do anything to make B-ber feel better. I feel so bad; my chest feels heavy, really. I keep on thinking about him being so active, running around, trying to bite me, playing with me, and sort of scaring me off. I miss him so much already. But I kinda feel like I have no right to miss him because I didn’t do anything about his sickness. All I did was pray that he’d get better, and as you can see it didn’t work. Fuck this.

I guess I just have to carry this guilt for the rest of my life. I’m glad he didn’t have to suffer anymore with us, though. I wonder if his mom, Bam, misses him… Doesn’t seem like it. 

I couldn’t bring myself to cry yet… Maybe later. I feel some kind of emptiness inside me. The panicky feeling of knowing you just lost something is somewhere in the corners of my heart weighing me down. And I can’t do anything about it right now. I’m left with this strange misery. I feel so bitter that I don't wanna love or care for any pet starting today aside from the two we still have.

Life is so unfair. And I am so pathetic. This is one of those moments that I hate the fact that I have feelings. I’d give anything in the world to be as frigid as a lamp post right now.

Life sucks.

As morbid as it is, here's a picture I took during B-ber's last days. *cries*

Monday, 10 September 2012

Say Thank You

"Your assumptions about the lives of others are in direct relation to your naïve pomposity. Many people you believe to be rich are not rich. Many people you think have it easy worked hard for what they got. Many people who seem to be gliding right along have suffered and are suffering. Many people who appear to you to be old and stupidly saddled down with kids and cars and houses were once every bit as hip and pompous as you.

When you meet a man in the doorway of a Mexican restaurant who later kisses you while explaining that this kiss doesn’t ‘mean anything’ because, much as he likes you, he is not interested in having a relationship with you or anyone right now, just laugh and kiss him back. Your daughter will have his sense of humor. Your son will have his eyes.

The useless days will add up to something. The shitty waitressing jobs. The hours writing in your journal. The long meandering walks. The hours reading poetry and story collections
and novels and dead people’s diaries and wondering about sex and God and whether you should shave under your arms or not. These things are your becoming.

One Christmas at the very beginning of your twenties when your mother gives you a warm coat that she saved for months to buy, don’t look at her skeptically after she tells you she thought the coat was perfect for you. Don’t hold it up and say it’s longer than you like your coats to be and too puffy and possibly even too warm. Your mother will be dead by spring. That coat will be the last gift she gave you. You will regret the small thing you didn’t say for the rest of your life."

-- Cheryl Strayed (source)