dear one, I wish we had more time. I never got used to the thought that you couldn’t live as long as me and that fear was always in the back of my mind and I really always tried to make sure you felt loved but I also wasn’t prepared for this. I haven’t come home in years without calling your name and I never got tired of seeing you freak out whenever you realized it was me. I come home and there’s no little dog running pell-mell down the stairs and waiting at the gate. It’s all quiet. It’s weird.
I liked to write with you on my lap. You liked to sleep under the bed. You usually did what I said but among other things you wouldn’t get off my clothes if I dropped them on the floor and you wanted to chill on them because they smelled like me. You acted weird. You looked weird. Even your name was weird. I loved – love – you immensely.
When I was sad I would hug you and it would make me feel better.
No one’s saying it except my mom and only once but it was my fault even if it was an accident. You must have been in such pain. That’s the worst part of all this. The very worst part.
I wouldn’t even let them make you sleep outside even though you would sometimes make messes. I wouldn’t let anyone hurt you.
I wish we had more time together. I wish we had more time together. I wish we had more time together. I wish we had more time. I wish we had more time.