Thursday, June 8, 2017

Anniversary of Grief

This post is 365 days overdue. It could've or should've been written right after you both died. Your lives were worth celebrating, but I couldn't find adequate words to pay tribute and still can't. A year later I'm still struggling to put this suffering into words. Maybe it's dissipated some but may not ever disappear. I don't know how to make this emptiness stop hurting.

I lost my best friends a year ago. Someone who doesn't know me would consider me crazy for pouring so much emotion into pets, but they don't know. You all were with me when I was by myself but made me feel not so alone. You stayed with me through all the moves, the different strangers walking in and out of our lives, forever loyal companions and supporters. I had you, and you had me. Even if I could depend on people, you were faithful. The pair of you were an impermanent part of me that made my life feel more meaningful. If I felt like nothing else meant anything, your lives depended on me, and that kept me going.

You seemed to know I tried my best to help you when you were both sick. Animals age and get sick, but your suffering wasn't fair. A lot isn't fair, but you didn't ask to keep going. I made you do that, so I had to let you go. I hate hearing "it's the humane thing to do" or "it's selfish to keep them alive for you." Because it sucks that you couldn't stay with me longer, and I know no other pets will ever measure up to you. None will be as smart as Char or as sweet as Gris. And nobody will ever fill this hole in me. I still lay awake sometimes with a stone being ground inside my chest. Your lock on my gaze, Char, gave me closure. Animals don't do that unless they know, and I felt your message. But I wish it were enough.

Now I'll just keep missing you, even though I can breathe. No panic attacks but no connection like we had. Gris was my darling girl, but Char was my partner longer. You both welcomed my boy, protected him from the stupid dog, and stuck with me and to me when I felt alone when the house included three people supposed to be a family. You were my family, though. I never felt alone with you near me.

And I still can't do you justice. No eloquence comes, and my tears won't stop. I think I see you out of the corner of my eye, but I'm wrong. I'm still sad. I miss you so much, and I wish I knew why this is still so hard after all this time. You filled a third of my life, and I can't imagine feeling that loved by anyone else again.

It's silly projecting all this feeling onto pets, "just animals," but maybe you know how you were loved. You can't be just gone, because you were so important. Part of me is gone. Living lacks without you, but this anger is wasted. I wish remembering your beautiful lives took it away. Instead of you simply being gone. I will always miss you.    

Tuesday, June 30, 2015

How did camp creep up again?

sweet kitty pic apropos of nothing
I love/hate doing NaNoWriMo. Camp NaNo is less stressful as participants set their own word limits. Cranking out 50K during November tends to be too much pressure. Undeniably, I enjoy being part of the online community undertaking such huge projects. The camaraderie is fun. Watching NaNo Sprints via Twitter is intriguing - witnessing all the productivity when I could be sprinting myself has a somewhat self-defeating purpose. But I just can't seem to hang.

So I'm riding the fence about starting again tomorrow. My last Camp NaNo project sits listless on the back burner. It isn't even simmering, not even tepid, just cold and congealed. The project before that one is what I need to finish. It is simply stuck in the purgatory of revision. I've fallen out of love with my characters and can't seem to re-ignite the passion.

Meanwhile I try to use Studio 30+ writing prompt to actively create over at my other blog. Check it other over there. Whether I "go to camp" or not remains to be seen.

Tuesday, February 3, 2015

Elsewhere ...

Two works-in-progress now adorn my stack of books. They're mine, and they collect dust atop the other hard-copy ... or real ... books that rest on my dresser at home. The writing projects that are still what I call "in the revision phase." 

Now I've come back and realized my apparent abandonment of this blog. Truth is, I use another space as my actual writing blog and try to practice doing so at least on a weekly basis. Procrastinator that I might be, I'm doing a little something there. 

Katy Did Not, on the other hand, is what I've previously referred to as my ranty blog (like, "Oh, no you didn't ...) where I consider myself more anonymous in doing so. Well, as anonymous as a person can be online, especially since my Twitter account links to it. 

But I'll link over to the other one here in hopes that maybe I'll get a little traffic from it. Until then, cheers, and get back to work!

Monday, November 17, 2014

Gone Writing - aka November's Craziness

November is already half gone, and I'm currently in the throes of the kicking-my-butt event known as National Novel Writing Month or NaNoWriMo. Even though I'm not meeting the 1,600 word daily goal, I am plugging right along on a work-in-progress tentatively called "The Ones You Love." So I've been busy.

Be back soon!

Wednesday, October 22, 2014

The Confession

Slogging through the murkiness of their problems for so long made discussions painful.

He finally admitted the affair.

At last, they were comfortable talking about their feelings.

The air cleared - no more pretending.

Any awkwardness went out the door with him.  


Tuesday, September 23, 2014

Trouble in Paradise


I don’t want to be privy
to your intimate (and sordid) relationship details --

much more than I ever needed to know.

Looking at you both now,
I realize why her gaze stays downcast and sullen --

all the more reason I despise you.
(image via Gabriela C. on Flickr)