On Saturday, my dog died.
I was sitting right next to him, I was the only one still awake, and I looked over and he was gone...
I said goodbye to him this morning, and it sort of helped.
But it just hurts so bad.
I want him back, but he was in pain and he had to go.
I feel like a bitch, like it was my fault;
I should've taken better care of him, I shouldn't have forced him to walk up and down the driveway with me that day, I should've been a better owner.
Now I feel like I'm just pushing it all away, like I'm running away from this, and ignoring it.
I'm fine all day, or have been, but at night it gets hard.
Last night Jean slept over and we were up 'till one or so, because I was a wreck. I hyperventilated, and it sucked.
And I've already brought up getting another dog -NOT EVEN A FULL DAY AFTER HE'S BEEN GONE- but then I think about it and I don't know if I can handle it.
I don't think I want a puppy, I want a dog. MY dog.
It wouldn't be the same, it wouldn't...
But I miss having a dog, the house is so empty.
Oh fuck, I MISS HIM.
God, I love him, and I'm sorry he had to go so early.
I'm so tired.
I'm sad now.
Oh. My. God.
Everybody is sleeping except for me, but I wish I had somebody...
I think I'll be okay.
Even though I'm so tired of saying that, because I'm not sure if I'm lying...
Or if anybody would care anyways.