Sunday, April 24

The cat is dying

1 am and I'm called into the ex's room b/c he had a seizure.

He is dying and there is nothing I can do to stop it. All my kindness or gentleness or sadness or hope cannot fix what is wrong and I don't know what to do but say goodbye.

It's going to be soon, isn't it. You fucking cat.

I love you and you're going to die. And it's not like you even gave a damn about me, because you're a cat and you have a mom and she adores you. But, you cared about me when nobody else in the house did.

So, I love you and I wish there was something I could do to make your life go longer.

If you have to go, and you do, I hope you know, somehow, even though I don't speak cat, even though I am not your person, even though have no idea how to convey it, but, still, I hope you know you are loved.

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