(no subject)
I got just my cat, my baby kitten i've had since i was 5,
handed back to me in a BOX full of ashes.
My cat. My baby. What's left of her is in a box on our fireplace mantel.
I can't stand to look at it. Why is it there?
Chris' sentencing is in exactly one week.
One fucking week and until I could lose the most important person in my life.
I'm with him literally everyday, and he can make me laugh no matter what's going on in my life.
He laughs with me, crys with me, holds me while i'm sleeping because it's 63 degrees in my room at all times.
What am i going to do if he's gone?
That's not a rhetorical question.
Seriously, what am I going to do?
I would never in my life wish what i was going through on anyone,
no matter how much i hated them.