Saddest Moment

I can’t help myself but cry. In fact, I pulled myself away from my bed just now to come type this journal before . . . before I might not to for a while, and so I can get my true, deep emotion down on paper, so to speak.

I have tears streaking down my cheeks, but I don’t take the time to wipe them away. My face is red from crying, but I don’t care the least bit. My deep breathes are shaky, and they may tip me over my precarious position between a straight face and uncontrollable sobs. My dog lays on my bed, either too tired or hurt to move. She stares at me with bright, brown eyes, but they don’t communicate happiness with me, they show me the someone inside her who wants me to help her. I hold myself tight to keep in my whines, which refuse to become cries.

Actually, I’m surprised she got down off my bed and joined me, next to me on the floor where I type this message. The touch of her wet-ish against my elbow stopped me from another crying fit.

I don’t know what’s wrong with her. I think I know the broad range of it, but I don’t understand what’s happening. A couple days ago, Daysie ate a ham bone. I think we had the butt portion of it, about ten pounds. So do the math yourself. I think it was about the side of my fist, give or take a few centimeters in diameter. But I think it was the next day she wasn’t pooping. Yesterday she still wouldn’t poo, and she turned couch-potato on us, meanwhile shaking her head like she had ear mites, and scratching her stomach like she had fleas (we got rid of the fleas, so it couldn’t be that). Today, she’s not longer a couch-potato, but just a blob that won’t move. Just recently her skin started swelling, especially her ears. Her ears are supposed to be flexible and fairly flat, but now they’re stiff and very thick, not to mention too pink.

My mom told me yesterday that if she needs surgery, which I’m almost sure she needs now, she’s not going to be able to pay for it. Instead of getting the bone out of her stomach, intestines—whatever—my mom’s going to put her down. $500 is too much for a dog, she says. I don’t blame her, but Daysie’s my best friend. She’s always been there, and she noses her way into my arms when I need her, and loves me the best out of the whole family. She follows me around the house, she licks my legs at night when we watch movies. I’m going to miss that, even if she was a stupid pain in the butt. I love my dog, and I don’t want her to leave me.

Maybe my emotions are a little big for words. But if anyone’s really been attached to a pet, and they know they can help them, but they can’t, then they’d know what I’m talking about. I’m sure I could help Daysie, but I’m sure that the money I have isn’t going to be enough, and if it is, I . . . I don’t think I’d be able to spend it all on my dog. I need that money for other things, such as college once I get out of high school. I love her, and I love her dearly, but. . . .

And, what really bothers me, is that despite myself I’m thinking right now, “What would Tyler think?” Why the hell would I care what he thought? I mean, I know I had a crush on him last year, and that stupid emotion is having a lasting effect on me still, but he degraded me, crushed me. I shouldn’t care what he would think about my feelings over my dog dying! At the very least, I should be thinking about how this would effect my school work, and my ability to be somewhat social, as I’ve been keeping up lately. Hell, I should be thinking what the hell I’m going to be doing without my dog! Okay, I guess I lapse into swearing when . . . nope, I’m angry and sad. Never mind. I just start dropping heavier, uglier words when I’m angry, that’s it.

So since I still don’t have Internet, and I’m not sure how recent this’ll be once I actually post it online, I won’t ask for any advice. I’m sure that A) no one really reads this blog anyway B) no one would really care to give me any advice and C) I don’t even know what the hell I’m doing.

Another thing just popped up inside my head. A week or so back, this kid in A lunch said to me that Tyler now had a crush on me, and he doesn’t know how to put it. I compressed my own spirits instead of confronting him during fifth hour or something, and just let it be. Hopefully now that I said that, that’ll leave my mind. For some reason it’s just been haunting me.

But I want to pull this journal to a happier ending. Hopefully. I’m working on Zodiac Tribes, chapter seven, but I forgot the names of all the Zodiac leaders, so I had to put it on a halt. Once I get some Internet access (which should be tomorrow, Friday) I’ll get the leader names and start ‘production’ again. And again, once I get Internet access, I’ll post the chapters I finished on AB and dA. It’s really annoying not having Internet, if you’re an Internet but like me.

Well, I’m going to try to pull myself together now. First step, wash the dried tears off of my cheeks. Second step, get dinner going and call Alyssa to tell her I’m coming over. I need to get a homecoming dress from her today, so I can actually go with Henry to the dance. You know, I’ve really got to get details sorted out by tomorrow. Hopefully I shouldn’t be on the phone too much. Maybe we’ll even go to the game? I hate football, but maybe homecoming I’ll go to.

SONG OF THE DAY: Seasons in the Sun ~ Terry Jacks