My cat died three days ago. We only had him for about six or seven years, and now he's gone. He was one of my closest friends. I swear he understood English, or at least an inflection or a meaning. He lived a good life. Had some rough spots, but went out without pain and was put down with a smile on his face. I still miss him. I still wish he wasn't gone. I constantly think of all the scenarios that would occur should he still be here. Recently, every time I see the moon I think of him. (Ian's fault.) He had an hourglass between his eyes...
I've been unstable and unsure whether I'll cry or not in certain situations. I wish we would have taken more pictures of him. I don't want to smile when I'm crying, or be forced to feel better. Six years does not just go away in a few days. He slept with me almost every night of his life. Kept me up for many of them. Kept my secrets. Gave advice. Smart enough to open a door, or pop out a screen. And scared enough to needfully follow me around. I've had relatives die in my life, but none of them I ever knew well enough. I always felt bad because I felt like my parents were mourning and I was not. This is my first true experience at losing someone close in my life. I know it happens, but I never could really feel what it feels like to lose something and never be able to get it back again.
My heart mourns you. I'll miss you.
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