I truly am a mess.
Grief is such a hard thing to deal with. I’ve been completely fine the past week, but now here I am, silently sobbing on the couch, missing my dog so fucking much. It just hit me that the last time I was here on this couch at this time of night, I was holding my dog and trying to make him feel better because the cancer was causing him to be in so much pain. The last time I was here was when I really realized he was sick and not going to get better. Just me, my tears, and Gus. Then a few days later he was gone. That was over a month ago but the hurt is still very fresh. Then as I’m sitting here, I realize that I’m not over my ex whatsoever and things can never be back to how they were, I’m most likely going to really hurt the guy I need in my life right now because I don’t know what I want at all, and then I remember what my mom said about going to see an oncologist because they can’t figure out what’s wrong with her, and it may be cancer, then I remember I have to go get blood work done too because they don’t know what’s wrong with me. And the grammar in this is most likely some of the most horrendous ever, but I have no shits to give over it. Life’s just fucking peachy.