move along


This week started off badly. Really. So badly, indeed.

My dad called me on Monday, only to tell me my cat died.

Tabby died.

And I really could not help the tears. Even now.

For the past few weeks I looked forward to come back home and have her to snuggle with every night. To have her biting my fingers. To kiss her nuzzle. To stroke her fur until she rimas with me. To have her playing with my hair. To wake up to her morning call by licking my nose. To say that I miss her all the time while I am far away from her. To say that I love her. To watch her going to sleep. To feed her by my hand. To watch her innocent face every time that I am mad with her. To go to sleep while watching her clean herself. To see her. Just to see her.

Losing her is like losing a sister. Home is not the same without her.

Guess I have less reason to be homesick after this.

I will try. Not to be emotionally attached with cats anymore.