It’s been two months but it still feels like yesterday.
That last moment with you was bad. It’s like a scene from a movie you’d wish the director left out. There I was, lying next to you, scratching your belly the way you’ve always wanted. I hummed you a stupid song only we know about, and kept telling you, “get well my love, and I promise you I will let you do whatever you want.” A few minutes later, you had a fit — the longest I’ve seen in my life — and soon after, you stopped breathing.
I couldn’t believe it. I felt a sick feeling in my stomach and all I could do was scream to high heavens and weep. I tried to revive you, with no knowledge on what I was supposed to, and failed. Like how bad scenes should go, my life faded to black.
Your death brought a kind of darkness that constantly hovered at my entire being. It shook something deep in my core, leaving my heart completely shattered. The tremors further drilled a big hole inside of me I know I could never fill.
They say in moments of grief, you seek comfort in good and happy memories. Thankfully, they were plenty. The best is when you’d welcome me home, jumping at me with full force I would tumble at warp speed. It’s the happiest anyone ever greeted me. You made me feel so goddamn important.
You would wake me up every morning by jumping in my bed (you had so much energy, you always had to leap) and licking my face. Because you woke me up, I’d skip the snooze button.
When I would write at night, or do all-nighters, you’d keep me company. Often, you’d sleep beside me. Many times I envied you for snoring your way to sleep while I toiled. “You’re torturing me!”
You’d go to me every time I was sad, frustrated, anxious or mad. You did have empathy like no other, which scared me a bit. Turns out you were always right to go to me. Because of you, I never felt alone. Thank you for the many times you made me strong.
I remember when I’d ignore you because of the things I had to do. Your little paw would touch me lightly, then ever demandingly. I’d often dismiss it. I always feel guilty about that. I already miss the times when you’d put your head on my lap, with your cute, imploring eyes straight at me, asking me to please spend some quality time with you. Oh how I wish I have done it more!
I wish I knew that the last time I saw you would be the last time I’d be with you. Sadly, we really cannot predict these things. If I can, know that I would’ve done things differently. I would’ve hugged you longer and kissed you incessantly. I would’ve told you over and over again how much you mean to me.
I still can’t believe you’re gone, Gimli. Talking about you still hurts. Looking at your pictures still hurts. Everything that reminds me of you still fucking hurts. I still look at dogs with the same love and affection, but now, there’s also deep pain. It’s because I miss you so much that it hurts. The kind of pain that comes in waves. The kind of pain that never really goes away.
Since you left, I still think of you. Everyday. I wonder how you are and if you’re getting everything you need. I also wonder why you never visited me in my dreams. Are you too busy running fast in heaven? Are you having more fun with your new owner? Are you too busy for me?
It’s okay, Gimli. I’m sure it’s a much better place out there. People there are supposedly much kinder and cheerier, too, and definitely no one with my moods. Also, it’s okay because I feel more loved now. Your loss revealed to me a new kind of reality. For one, I now know the people I want to keep. These are the people who shared with my sadness, who knew how I felt, and whom I don’t need to explain to why I’m most devastated by your death.
They are those who understood why it broke my heart and why you mattered.
I write this letter to you now, Gimli, because I want to say goodbye. I won’t be able to move on without doing it. So I have to. What better way to do it than by writing, hoping it reaches you up there in heaven. Please understand that I’m not saying goodbye because I want to forget you. Far from it, my love. I want to say goodbye because I want to remember you without pain. I want to let go of this grief and start accepting that you’re really in a better place. I want to be able to celebrate your life, and the love and kindness you’ve shown us, and not feel so sad all the time.
I wish you’re here to celebrate the new adventures in my life with me. You see, I’m turning 30 soon! I know that better things are ahead of me and I wish you’re here to also feel my optimism. But knowing that you can’t, I just hope you can take a break from your unlimited playtime in heaven, even for just a little bit, and stop by my dreams.
Thank you for everything, Gimli. Your memories will always be with me wherever I go. I am a better person because of you and I will live my life in a way that you’ll be proud of. Score me some big points with the Big Guy if you can. I know you’ve already whispered sweet things to Him, seeing how well I am loved and blessed today. Just like you’ve always wanted.
You can rest better now, my love. Until we meet again.