Is this my blog title?

Okay, so today was effing fantastic. The boy brought me flowers from my mom's old shop that is going under. Can ya get much better than that?! Oh no, I think I really, really like him. I've got to calm down.

Today has been crappy. My beautiful Gatsby, and now Hero. It's my fault, I texted him first. I just don't want him to fall out of my life...I wish with all my effing might that I could just wave a magic wand and make us the same kind of close that we used to be. I just pray that if I can't have him back as my friend, I find someone/someone grows into as close a friend as he was to me. Hero could have been so much more caring and understanding, and I know that now. I know he wasn't the best friend a person could have, and that he actually kinda sucks at a lot of things. But he made me feel safe and like I'd never be alone...like someone understood me. Oh well. I guess St. Joan was probably right when 'twas written for her, "What is my loneliness compared before the loneliness of my country and my God? My God finds strength in his loneliness...and so shall I." Though I'll never be alone, even if I'm never understood, it won't matter. It shall be my strength.

...I've never sat with a dying pet before. If you ever have, I'm so sorry. I know how you feel, because I sat with my kitten, Gatsby, this morning as he lay on our gravel-filled garden, dying from head trauma. It's a very sad thing, to sit with an animal while they're dying...and when they know they're dying. My mom was going to pick up my littlest brother from working on a project in downtown, when she got in the car, started it, and felt like she had hit something. It was Gatsby. She came into the house wailing and crying and I knew something horrible had happened. She painfully told me that she had hit Gatsby. She was panicking really badly and called my grandparents, who know a lot more about injured animals than we do. She was too scared to go outside and look at him, but she said he was bleeding. I got brave and fearfully went out to look at him. He waddled toward me, looking so sad and tired...he didn't even look scared, just like he was exhausted. He really didn't look as disfigured as mom made him out to be...one little eye looked glossy and kinda "off", and there was blood all over his nose and mouth, and he had a little bald spot on his head...but he seemed to aware of his surroundings. He walked over to the gravely garden where we have little bushes growing, and sat there. I asked mom for a towel...she was too panicked and sick to look at him. I tried to wrap him it in, but I think I spooked him. After he settled down again, I laid next to him on the ground and gently stroked his back. I whispered that he was okay, and that he was going to be okay, and that he didn't look so bad...I think I was more reassuring myself than him. I looked up at the sky, which was a really beautiful blue with fluffy patches of white clouds, and felt the presence of God on this nice day. There was something about the moment that was calming, despite the panic bubbling in my stomach. I laid there with Gatsby for 10 minutes before my grandparents arrived...while they looked him over, my mom left to collect my brother, and I was asked to clean Gatsby's blood and poop off the driveway. I did so quite hastily, trying to keep myself busy while they examined my kitten. Upon mom's return, she told me to take my youngest brother away from the house. I did so with a heavy heart, for I knew I'd come back and Gatsby would be gone. I wish I could report that I was wrong. I just wish they had let me take him to the vet. I just wanted that...or to have said goodbye. ...Despite everything, I feel Gatsby is probably rolling around in the fields of Heaven somewhere with Jessie, Einstein, his brothers and sisters, and all the other beloved pets we've had and lost over the years. I'm trying very hard to remember that sweet moment laying next to Gatsby when I felt God looking down on us. I feel certain that however they put him down, God went with him and took care of my baby. I'm so glad I spent a good amount of time the day before petting him and picking sticky beads of grass off his fur...

Okay, so I'm home from the Happiest Cornfield on Earth, and I became friends with a ginger baby named Bentley, and it was adorbs, but the dad who called me "kitty kat" was NOT, and anyway, I'm trying Nair for the first time, and Im TERRIFIED. It smells so bad. What if my skin falls off? D:

Vic: Then go.

Okay, chat. Let's see how confusing you are.

Okay, well thats how to share a link. Now for some hashtag practice.Tub

anonymous

Learning how to do photo posts. Have a blurry picture of Mr. B*.