Hours, to days, to months, to years. Until it's a distant memory. in Many things

I want to write about my cat. All her little habits. The way she used to open one side of her lips slightly higher than the other while closing that side’s eye as if she tasted something sour. Maybe it was her way of trying to smile? The way she would stretch her arms so tight when I held them up and told her to stretch. The way she used to stare at me as if there’s a thought she hoped to express. The way she trusted me to take care of her. These memories mean so much to me and I’m so afraid that I will forget over time. I know that not everyone will empathize. I wasn’t a very empathetic person when I first got her. I was a terrible owner and an even worse human being. But this tiny life had a lot of patience. She was kind to me despite how reckless I was. There’s no language, but we understood one another. She’s the truest friend I’ve ever had. Now my mind spins, my heart is full of grief. I can’t sleep because I’m terrified of that feeling when reality floods back into my conscious mind and I feel this awful feeling again. I haven’t had much appetite the past two months ever since I found out about her tumor, her surgery, my dog’s tumor, my dog’s last day, her tumor returning, and her last day. I’m falling apart. My legs shake as I walk down stairs. I cant help but feel the tears behind my eyes all the time. I hate pretending to be okay in front of others. All I have are these texts to express how I feel but I’m doing a terrible job at recording how I feel for my future self to remember. I used to think I was fine being alone all these years. I’m only realizing now that I was never alone, until now.

Last updated July 24, 2021