I need dogs

Ever since my dogs started aging, my pops has made it his mission to recant the tales of his own furry friends. Mostly, he talks about how the heartbreak was eventually too much for him to handle and so, has never found it in his heart to make room for more pets. The duration of the stories change each time he goes through them. First, it took him six months to recover then it was six weeks. It may seem like a huge difference but I don’t think he’s wrong either way.

It’s been 10 days. The time that has passed already feels like a lifetime. We still haven’t even gotten her ashes back yet. The vet said they made a clay paw print at the crematory.

Seemingly insignificant things bring me to tears. We saw the new Avengers movie and when Vision is telling Wanda it’s okay to do what has to be done “I’m so sorry it had to be you”, I broke. I was a wet mess in that theater. My dad turned to me, confused that I would be so emotionally affected by this movie. In my defense, I cried for the last twenty minutes of Guardians of the Galaxy. Groot’s sacrifice to save his friends totally decimated me.

I started watching Grey’s Anatomy again the other day and remembered something very vital about myself. Maybe I’m still high off of volunteering at a blood bank or maybe my hormones are out of whack but I don’t think either of those are true. Watching shows like Grey’s or movies like Guardians of the Galaxy remind me why I love living. They remind me to have hope in the world and accept that bad things will also bring good things. The cycle must continue and we should laugh. Laugh a lot.

I’m still recovering from my baby’s passing but I looked at my dog today and thought for the first time in a long time “god, I love dogs”. He just looked at me with these big round eyes and sort of asked ‘what’d I do?’ And it made me laugh and I instantly felt surrounded by love. I don’t know how my dad could be so blinded by his anguish that he would close himself up like that to all the goodness that dogs bring even if they steal away parts of our hearts we’ll never get back.

I wouldn’t trade my heartbreak for anything.

1/22 9:53pm

I told myself

I’d paint instead

I told myself

I’d keep out of my head

I know rhyming is sometimes cheap and I really don’t care

 

I can’t help but give myself some sort of outlet

I’m trying a bunch of different things

My horoscope helps, keeps me on track

But really it’s probably wrong

And there are no stars to keep me aligned

I feel lost

First day back

I gotta write this down because I think I’m going to explode. In my last relationship, I was forced to keep my mouth shut the entire time about how I felt because my partner was so damn delicate. So you’d think my natural reaction now would be to speak my mind whenever I feel the need arise. That is not the case apparently.

I am being shut out. I can feel the warm comfort and promises made being pulled away. I know what’s going on and I’m trying to my damndest to keep myself sane and quiet but I am also chomping at the bit.

I want to say “Tell me what’s going on”

I want to say “I can tell what you’re doing”

I want to say “You’re scaring me”

I want to say “Why are you doing this”

I want to say “Please stop”

I want to say “Why are you being weird”

I want to say “I know you’re avoiding me and using distancing behavior”

 

But mostly I want to say, “Please don’t go”

Stage 1?

I’m about to break up with my boyfriend. I haven’t been able to for the last week or so because again, that delicacy issue has me stuck. He actually threatened to kill himself when I tried to last week. I have so little patience for his shenanigans and yet I’ve been forced to keep boosting his mood. He got sick all of a sudden and I’m trying to wait it out a few days before I drop the bomb. It’s insane to me that a grown man has to be treated like this. Every time I text him back, I’m biting back the attitude I want to throw: apathy and resentment.

I don’t care how your day is.

I don’t care how you’re doing.

I don’t care if you’re feeling flirty.

I don’t care.

I really don’t care.

I care if you are well and if you take care of your health. Regardless, I want to treat you with kindness and compassion. I will treat you how I would like to be treated. I make jokes to myself about the personal prisons I find myself in. This relationship, while constructive, has been one of those circumstances at least for the last week.