Yesterday was a very sad day for me. I lost the best friend i've had for the last 14 years. He was always there for me, always listen and let me cry when i needed it. Never judged me never made me feel small or unworthy of anything. He helped a 13 year old girl get threw some pretty confusing times when my parents got divorced. Showed me unconditional love when every one else seemed to be looking out for number one. Stuck by me threw 6 moves, one long term relationship and a kitten 3 years ago named Oy. He even didn't complain when I started making him sleep on the couch instead of in bed with me, where he belonged. That's my regret this morning. That i didn't just pick him up bring him with me... i didn't want to disturb him, i thought it might be hard for him to get down from there. I just said "good night buddy" and i gave him a pat on the head, too scared to pick him up because he suddenly looked so goddamn frail and little. How the hell did this happen? When did you get so old? I guess life takes us away from the people that really love us, takes us away until we're barely recognizable. Life's abides and no one makes it out alive, that's the joke of it all, the great cosmic farce.
I went to bed. Sat there for a minute. Reached for the bag i keep under my bed. In it i keep the last bottle of old spice i gave to my grandfather, a rose from him casket, the last father's day card i gave him and some of his ashes. Whenever i feel really alone i take a whif from the old spice and feel a little better. I prayed. I don't often but i did. I prayed he wouldn't die while i was sleeping, that i'd be there for him. I woke up and went to work. Then i deciced, fuck it, let them fire me i'm going home. He was by the door when i got back, ready to go. I know he's never liked being in the car, and i guess the stress of it all was just too much. I knew this day was gonna come... i just... i always thought he'd be the exception to the rule, out living everybody, even me.
He was my best friend, i miss him so much it hurts. Everybody out there's gonna think i'm off my fucking rocker, but i don't care. Paws was the best, and everybody knows it. He was the coolest cat on the fucking planet. There'll never be another one like him. I love him and right now life is just cruel. What sucks is that this will pass, eventually time does heal shit and life goes on. People forget, that's why the suicide rate isn't high as it should be. I shouldn't like that but i'm groggy from all the sleeping pills and muscle relaxants i've been taking. I know tomorrow i'll feel a little better, and the day after that a little better then the day before. And i'll forget. I'll forget about when he'd come say "hi" to me in the morning and bump me on the head while i was on the can. Or when he come and watch tv with me at night, not like other cats to sit on my lap and be petted but more to sit on the couch next to me and watch TV. Or when he'd sit right under Jay's cigarette and looked as if he sorta missed smoking, like he'd been doing 2 packs a day in a previous life. I'm gonna foget all that one day, until all i have left are a couple of pictures.
I'm leave in a bit to get Paws's name tattooed somewhere... people'll think i'm crazy but i don't care, 14 years deserves something.
I went to bed. Sat there for a minute. Reached for the bag i keep under my bed. In it i keep the last bottle of old spice i gave to my grandfather, a rose from him casket, the last father's day card i gave him and some of his ashes. Whenever i feel really alone i take a whif from the old spice and feel a little better. I prayed. I don't often but i did. I prayed he wouldn't die while i was sleeping, that i'd be there for him. I woke up and went to work. Then i deciced, fuck it, let them fire me i'm going home. He was by the door when i got back, ready to go. I know he's never liked being in the car, and i guess the stress of it all was just too much. I knew this day was gonna come... i just... i always thought he'd be the exception to the rule, out living everybody, even me.
He was my best friend, i miss him so much it hurts. Everybody out there's gonna think i'm off my fucking rocker, but i don't care. Paws was the best, and everybody knows it. He was the coolest cat on the fucking planet. There'll never be another one like him. I love him and right now life is just cruel. What sucks is that this will pass, eventually time does heal shit and life goes on. People forget, that's why the suicide rate isn't high as it should be. I shouldn't like that but i'm groggy from all the sleeping pills and muscle relaxants i've been taking. I know tomorrow i'll feel a little better, and the day after that a little better then the day before. And i'll forget. I'll forget about when he'd come say "hi" to me in the morning and bump me on the head while i was on the can. Or when he come and watch tv with me at night, not like other cats to sit on my lap and be petted but more to sit on the couch next to me and watch TV. Or when he'd sit right under Jay's cigarette and looked as if he sorta missed smoking, like he'd been doing 2 packs a day in a previous life. I'm gonna foget all that one day, until all i have left are a couple of pictures.
I'm leave in a bit to get Paws's name tattooed somewhere... people'll think i'm crazy but i don't care, 14 years deserves something.
posted by Annie | 4:37 PM
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