I laid down and you were snuggled into me, perfectly content to sleep by my side. I awoke, and you were cold, limp, and unresponsive. I knew you were dead. It wasn't fair.
You were only 11 months old. I was planning on making you some form of a vegetable, beardie-safe cake on July 17th, your birthday. You were the one that kept me from killing myself, for fear the family would give you away and you'd suffer under improper ownership. You made sure my depression never drilled itself as deep as before you. You healed me, and taught me to trust again. But now what? Now, you are gone, and I am so alone in this worldful of people.
I want you back, of course I want you back. And it's too cruel, the way you had to die two days before my 13th birthday. I keep expecting you to wake up, to look at me with those big, beady brown eyes, and lick your lips, asking for your morning meal. It was around this time that you'd crawl up my shoulder to lay your head on my cheek. Never again. I used to kiss you, and you'd kiss me back.... never again.
It is cruel that you had to die young. Not even a year! I'd only had you for half of one. You were my world, my lifeline, my baby. We used to go to the park together, and you'd get so much attention. I was going to take you to San Jose, Reggie. White sand, turquoise water.... hot, humid. You would have loved it. But now, I cannot. Now, all I can ever do is sulk. Will I ever smile again? It's improbable. I've lost the closest thing to me, my best friend.
You were made to be mine, of that I was sure. The way we got along, how compatible we were! You fell asleep on my lap that first night home.... it seems like yesterday.
I don't think I can attach myself to another dragon. Not after you. I'll slowly slip from the forums, unable to bear your memory any longer. You lay next to me, wrapped up in my Aunt Sarah's softest towel. I'm hallucinating. I keep thinking I see you move, I see your eyes open. This all feels like a dream. You can't be dead!
I don't think I'll take it to be real until I bury you, in a neat little box, so no predators get to you. I'll never snuggle with you again. What am I going to do with your blankie? Your stuffed puppy? The only thing I can do is keep them as physical memories, since I cannot keep you.
I cannot type anymore, as my eyes are too blurry to see the page, and I need a box of tissues.
Sleep well, my friend, my baby, my darling.... My Reggie.
Jacqui
You were only 11 months old. I was planning on making you some form of a vegetable, beardie-safe cake on July 17th, your birthday. You were the one that kept me from killing myself, for fear the family would give you away and you'd suffer under improper ownership. You made sure my depression never drilled itself as deep as before you. You healed me, and taught me to trust again. But now what? Now, you are gone, and I am so alone in this worldful of people.
I want you back, of course I want you back. And it's too cruel, the way you had to die two days before my 13th birthday. I keep expecting you to wake up, to look at me with those big, beady brown eyes, and lick your lips, asking for your morning meal. It was around this time that you'd crawl up my shoulder to lay your head on my cheek. Never again. I used to kiss you, and you'd kiss me back.... never again.
It is cruel that you had to die young. Not even a year! I'd only had you for half of one. You were my world, my lifeline, my baby. We used to go to the park together, and you'd get so much attention. I was going to take you to San Jose, Reggie. White sand, turquoise water.... hot, humid. You would have loved it. But now, I cannot. Now, all I can ever do is sulk. Will I ever smile again? It's improbable. I've lost the closest thing to me, my best friend.
You were made to be mine, of that I was sure. The way we got along, how compatible we were! You fell asleep on my lap that first night home.... it seems like yesterday.
I don't think I can attach myself to another dragon. Not after you. I'll slowly slip from the forums, unable to bear your memory any longer. You lay next to me, wrapped up in my Aunt Sarah's softest towel. I'm hallucinating. I keep thinking I see you move, I see your eyes open. This all feels like a dream. You can't be dead!
I don't think I'll take it to be real until I bury you, in a neat little box, so no predators get to you. I'll never snuggle with you again. What am I going to do with your blankie? Your stuffed puppy? The only thing I can do is keep them as physical memories, since I cannot keep you.
I cannot type anymore, as my eyes are too blurry to see the page, and I need a box of tissues.
Sleep well, my friend, my baby, my darling.... My Reggie.
Jacqui
Nhà Cái Cá Cược Trực Tuyến Đáng Chơi Nhất 2024
