scars all over my back or that I was scared of things I couldn't see, of dark memories that I desperately wanted to leave in the past.
She just loved me unconditionally and only wanted to comfort me. I clung to that love, fostering it. She was my therapy, and I came to depend on her for so much. I can’t count how many times I woke up out of a night terror, frightened out of my mind, only to find Roxy sitting right there, nuzzling against me and whining with true pain from worrying over me. Her calming presence would almost always soothe my anxiety. It’s times like last night, when I’d been plagued by a particularly dark terror, where I miss her the most.
It hurts so badly to think that she’s never going to lay with me in bed again. To think I can no longer hold her close and pet her with long strokes as I whisper, thank you into her thick fur. She’d done so much for me, more than anyone else has: loving me, healing me, that even if she were here now, I’d never be able to repay her for it.
I try to lean against the counter and my elbow knocks the plastic travel mug off the counter. I try to grab it but miss, the plastic hitting the tips of my fingers before falling onto the floor with a loud clatter. I wince from the loud noise and wait for it to settle before picking it up.
“I guess it’s just going to be one of those days,” I mutter out loud to myself, wiping at the tears in the corner of my eyes with the back of my hand. At least it’s not broken. I bend down, scooping the mug up and finally resting against the counter as the smell of coffee fills the room. Since Roxy’s death, some days have been harder than others, with me nearly overcome with emotion. Unfortunately, this was shaping up to be one of those days. I suppose that’s just how grief works.
It’s even worse considering Roxy was the first pet I’ve ever had, and that she was the only companionship I had when I first came back home. I pause as I pour cream and sugar into my coffee cup. Maybe it’s not right to call this place home. I’m still hours away from what used to be home. The small suburbs of New York will never be home again. I just can’t face the constant reminders. I feel guilty about distancing myself from my family and the life I used to have, but it’s for the better. It’s the only way I’ll find happiness after everything that happened.
I take a deep breath, setting the mug on the counter and inhaling the smell of fresh hot French vanilla coffee, doing everything I can to let go of the painful reminder. Losing Roxy was very difficult, but I can’t keep going on like this. I’ll always love her, but she wouldn’t want me living with this constant negativity. I just know in my heart she wouldn’t.
Closing my eyes, I take a small sip of the coffee and let the warmth fill me, comfort me. When I open them a moment later, they focus like a laser onto the clock on the microwave.
5:45
Shit, now I’m really running late. Sighing, I take another sip of my coffee, trying to relax. I’m only behind by fifteen minutes, but the dogs are there and waiting. I don’t want to disrupt our routine. They need it just as much as I do.
A low ding from my phone draws my eyes over to the kitchen table where my laptop is sitting open from the previous night, and I see my cell screen lit up on the edge of the lap top with a text. I let out a sigh and quickly grab it off the side of the table, hitting the keypad and waking the laptop to life. I don’t really have time for this, but I can’t not answer it. Before I can check my message, I see a notification pop up in the lower right corner on my laptop screen.
Darlinggirl86 has come online.
My phone dings again, but I ignore it as my last DM with Kiersten lights up with a message. I smile as I read what she’s typed.
Darlinggirl86: <3 you girl. You were right! I should’ve gone shopping. It made me feel so much better. I finally got that red dress