I would write something else but I am just blah right now because in two days it will be the five month anniversary of my dog passing. Please, don’t bother telling me it was “just a dog” because I will have to punch you directly in the face. He was my best friend, sure he had four legs and had no idea what I was saying, but that didn’t make a difference to me. In all honesty, I never really had friends until my junior or senior year, but I always had my dog. He was always around to talk to, to play with or just lay on the floor next to. When he passed away I don’t think anyone really grasped how heart broken I was, still am over it. I really have a hard time with change, I don’t know where that began, but I really just don’t like change. So when I came home to him being gone, and his food dish his water dish and his bed weren’t around, a piece of me broke. I guess I just felt guilty for leaving when he passed, like I should of been there for him, like he was there for me. Like I let him down. it was just hard knowing I was in New York smiling and fooling around when he took his last breaths and passed away. It was hard knowing my last words to him where “Be home when I get home” and I came home to him being gone. It’s even hard to wear black and not has his fur all over me when I leave the house. It’s hard hearing my brother say “I don’t want a new dog, I just want Jack back”.
It’s just really fucking hard.
& I really wish I had been able to bury him in my back yard so I could be by him.