My dog died.


People have different ways of expressing goodbyes. Me, I hate it, but like my good bye to Casimoro, I had to find him before I left.
I made sure I walked my coworker to the elevator on her last day.
I went in to the doctor's office when when we decided to put one of my dogs to sleep and watched the doctor jabbed the needle to his heart.
I cried while holding my nephews and brother before going back here.
They were all painful, well, maybe accept the goodbye to Casimoro, although it was still sad.

This dog of mine is ugly, black, short fur, with long and awkward looking legs. He actually looked like a horse instead of a dog. Really really unattractive.
But like all moms, they always love their children and subjectively think that their kids are the best, the cutest, the prettiest. I do too.

But there was no closure between us. I want to be there when he exhaled his last breath. I bet I would've been crying, wailing, shaking, heartbroken, mourning, hyperventilating while holding his paws... If I hadn't passed out. But I'm big at that. That's how I deal.

And now my dog died.
He'll be cremated then my mom will pick up his ashes and they'll go to the sea and spread his ashes away.
And I'm right here, inside my la la land, untouched, in a sterile, perfect, Brady Bunch environment.
And I've been wanting to cry, to wail, to sob but I can't and I don't know why.
I feel this grieve inside my chest.
My head is pounding.
My throat is choked.
I can't breathe.
My heart is almost physically in pain.
And inside my head, there is this unstoppable movie clips of my dog. playing over and over and over and over and over and over again.
When he was born, and how I thought, man, this one is ugly.
When he did his daily barking to the postman.
The close ups of his horsey face and horsey legs.

And I can't freaking cry even though I feel empty.
And dark.
And in pain.


Listening to: The drugs Don't Work - The Verve
The drugs didn't work anymore, it just made him worse.