Thursday, January 14, 2010

grief

The funny thing about grief is how subtle yet pervasive it is. It's like this thin film layer that just lingers in and around you, and when you least expect, it will just jab you with a memory, evoking the deepest kind of sorrow. This week, my beloved dog Nicholas (his real name; I'm kind of done with the whole pseudonyms thing) had to be put to sleep. And now my heart feels like it has been permanently cracked open and all of this stuff is just perpetually oozing out of it, often finding it's way out of my tear ducts. People tell me that it was the right thing to do. It will get better with time. Maybe I should get a new dog. Truthfully, what I feel like I need is a new heart because this one is pretty banged up, and I wonder if it's salvageable.

3 comments:

cum.lover said...

I can understand your grief over Nicholas's death. I had to have my adored dog Angie put down in November of last year. She was 18 (!) years old, & I had had her since she was three months old. It hurts like crazy not to have her still.

Jandar Tyr said...

My cat died at home in my lap. I had her since she was less then a month old. After her, I never wanted another pet. I still don't want to have to go through that again, but low and behold, we have a kitten.

clarus65 said...

it's been four years and i still can't bring myself to have another dog. it helped that my ex had gotten a dog when we were living apart. i'm not sure i'll ever be able to have one of my own.

marin mazzie - back to before (ragtime) July 4, 1998

ii was reminded of this performance tonight and wanted to share it here as a tribute to a phenomenal talent who left us way too soon.