Over a cat, and companion

Here I am, on my way home.

Today was long. It seems forever ago since I was talking about my boy in present tense.

My parents have been to the vets, I imagine he is home now, I imagine they are burying him, or have done by now. I am relieved, I am so exhausted, but at least it is over, he isn’t in pain anymore, he is sleeping, by now. It happened so fast yet the last 24 hours have hung past my eyes like droplets of treacle sinking.

My boyfriend is driving to pick up his exhausted, sad, tired girlfriend.

So many sad phone calls and conversations today, and a goodbye I didn’t get to make. I texted my goodbye, in the hope my dad would tell him, whisper to him, even after, just to make sure he knew the words I wanted to say. As if he knew, as if he would understand. He could have spoken Cornish, I imagine. And there it is, our intense desire to anthropomorphise our animals, our faithful companions. He was probably never aware that he was mine, or I was his. What were his thoughts, if animals have thoughts beyond instincts and decisions and need. He liked his food, his cuddles. So do I. Common ground goes a long way for cementing dear relationships.

I will miss him terribly. I wish it were tomorrow, I wish I was sat at my computer, in my cosy office, Newfy at my feet, Radio 4 kneading my brain. I wish today was over, I had a cup of tea by my desk, and feelings were memories, or the start of memories, or the knowledge that it wouldn’t be all that long, not really, not in the grand scheme of things. When I publish this, it will be, unless I crank my Acer back on at home, nameless this one. My old laptop was named after my Grandma, dearly departed, a woman with a grin full of promises of cake and cuddles. My sister’s rubber plant was given the same name. This one, Acer, Aces, Laptop, Lappy, PC, nothing all that emotive or personal. It is a little slow to start up these days, now an old lady (man?) in its 9th month (suffering under the fat, tense fingers of the WebStress, darting over its keys, weighing it down with unnecessary cumbersome PSDs and half-started, sadly neglected tales, not stories, too much in their infancy to be a story, more of a flicker of an idea, a thought not quite promised, not quite there.

An hour to wish and dream and want away. Work to do, but no inclination or desire to do it, despite its promise of taking my mind off of things. My friends, my family have been wonderful today. I wish they all knew how much I wrapped myself in their support and comfort. I will sleep tonight in my boyfriend’s arms. He will protect me tonight.

A sad day.