Saturday, February 14

I was planning on writing a lovely blog once I got the chance. With school and work and the time in between to actually get some sleep or eat some cereal, it’s hard to find time to do things that you enjoy… To do things. And with everything that a person has to fit in a 24-hour period, life somehow manages to sneak something unexpected in. Sometimes the surprise is something pleasant, and sometimes the surprise is… unpleasant. I guess yesterday was just one of those days.

Friday the thirteenth is a day that most consider to be unlucky. But what is luck to begin with? A chance happening? I, for one, don’t really believe in coincidences. Everything happens for a reason. Which gives ‘unlucky’ a new definition that I can agree with. However, if there was a day I would consider unlucky in both the first and second senses, that day would be February 13, 2009.

I’m writing this blog right now because my heart is broken. It actually and literally aches. I have some work to do, but I can’t concentrate. I can’t think. I can’t take my mind off the god-awful Friday the 13th I just experienced. If you happened to read my previous blogs, you’d notice that they are quite disheartening. But for a few months now I have been feeling great; I’ve been getting my life back on track. Slowly. But things were coming along. And I was finding happiness in my life again. And I’m sorry that I have to write another depressing blog, but something happened yesterday that I cannot dismiss.

I’m writing because I’m so tired of crying. My face is pink and raw and puffy from rubbing countless tears away. And although I was able to laugh and clear my mind of my broken heart for some of the day, I’m still feeling an emptiness that hurts far too much and cuts way too deep. For the last 11 years, I’ve shared my life with my dad, my mom, my sister, and my dog Hershey. I have known friends who have lost loved ones in their lives, and I know that I have been blessed to have never gone through such pain. Yesterday at about 1:30 pm, I lost Hershey. And although, I’ve never lost a father or a dear friend or an influential role model of some sort, my heart aches just the same. My heart aches not only because from now on, when I look outside, the picture will be incomplete, it aches because of this… unluckiness. Because I knew this day would come. And yet I neglected her loyalty as I got older. As my 24-hour period became fuller and fuller. My heart aches because at any point my father, my dear friend, or my influential role model can be taken away from me at any minute, and yet I still take them for granted, assuring myself they’ll be around for me to say “I love you” or “You mean something to me” or “Thank you” next week. Or next month. My heart aches because this is probably the loneliest I’ve ever felt. Because I love her so much but stopped showing so towards her last months. There is so much guilt. For so many reasons. And I’ve never lost anyone so close to my heart. I’ve only lost acquaintances and strangers I felt I knew. But now someone who actually meant so much to me is gone, and suddenly I’m supposed to live every day to the fullest? Tell my parents I love them and appreciate them everyday? Find the time in the day to spend playing with my two other dogs? Frankly, I don’t know if I can. I don’t know if I’m strong enough and brave enough to live every single day of my life like it’s my last. The notion is brilliant, but what is brilliant about me?

You had the best personality. You were so beautiful on every level. I remember when I used to hate you because you got all the attention because you were so goddamn cute. All your brothers and sisters could not compete. I despised you. But every day I watched you grow. And everyday you would show me your humility and contentment and your beautifully foolish smile. I don’t remember the day, but I fell in love with you. And you stayed loyal and wonderful and happy and funny and all the things you are. And I grew up and became the kind of person whose life just seems to linger just above the ground. You didn’t deserve to not be loved. And I didn’t deserve you. And I’m sorry for all the pain I’ve caused you. But now you’ve caused me pain too. And all I can think of is you, and the only word that is lingering just above my head is ‘unlucky’. That stupid, unlucky day. Unlucky in the sense that I knew it was coming. And yet I procrastinated on saying “I love you” or “You mean something to me” or “Thank you.” I just hope I was able to do it on time this time around. And that it wasn’t too late? And that you understood all these things when I held you for the last time. I am so sorry. I will always love you.


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