Sometimes I think the world is coming to an end. Like when I was ten and my dog died from cancer. It was the saddest day of my life. But she was there.
She’s always there.
She’s there when I’m down and depressed. She’s there when I’m floating on cloud nine. She’s there when I’m in the middle between heaven and hell.
She’s my best friend.
We weren't like this all the time. She was an enemy of mine for a good couple of years. She had traumatized me on Mountain Dew when I was fourteen. She said that it would bring down my sperm count and by the time I was twenty I wouldn’t be able to have kids.
She’s such a bitch sometimes.
But I wouldn’t change that for the anything in my life.
Sometimes I think the world is coming to an end. Like when I was seventeen and my uncle died in a car crash. He was the best uncle in the world. He bought me that car when my parents refused. The silver mustang that we refinished for nights and days on end. He was like a third dad.
He was the best.
And she was there when I needed a shoulder to cry on. She sat with me the whole night in the waiting room in that cold white walled hospital. She handed me Kleenexes when I needed them from the snot running out of my nose from all my crying.
She was great.
She was my best friend.
She was my everything.
And looking out at the rain soaked earth now. I think about all the good times, and all the bad times when she was by my side. And it hits me like a ton of bricks. This is the first time when I need her and she’s not here.
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