So it's been a long week. Yoda, my furrbaby, no longer exists. He
had either a spinal injury that was caused by nothing or spinal
meningitis that no one knows how he could have gotten. Needless to say,
the poor boy couldn't walk anymore. It was so painful to lose him and
even worse to watch him hurt. But, in the end, I had to not be selfish
because of my own need for him and let him go so he could be at peace.
Peace or... non-existent.
They said it would be like being put
under for a surgery. Have you ever been put to sleep for a surgery? If
you have, you know that there is absolutely nothing, and I do me
NOTHING, there. Pitch black and no memory. Man, that scares me
shitless. Friday, I was crying that my dog just no longer existed. I
no longer believe in the fairy tales that I told my son about Yoda being
some place playing ball and just waiting for us to join him. I no
longer believe the idiocy of such a stupid lie.
They say that
ignorance is bliss and I really, really want to believe that stupid lie
and fairy tale. My emotional state needs that comfort. But why?
Because I was raised to believe that and now as I have gotten older and
learned more, I realize that what I was taught to believe was not true?
So if I know the "facts" (done in quotation because what the hell are
real facts when it comes to this shit) why can my heart not move on?
Ah,
the heart! It's a fickle little fucker. Never really knows what it
wants, does it? Not for sure anyway. Mine isn't cut in stone at
least. It wanders around and dreams, rants and raves. Sometimes it
settles for a minute and then it can be all "up in arms" again.
I
want something more than me. I want to look up into the great space
that surrounds us. I want to be awed and feel small, but I want to know
that I'm a part of it and have some sort of control.
Control is
an illusion. And maybe, just maybe, because of the losses that we
experience we would like a little bit of the illusion.
Bye-bye, my baby. You will be sorely missed