I knew this day was coming; mostly from when I moved back to Albuquerque. When I came back, the dog looked aged. She had lost a lot of her hearing and sight. She got cancer and had fought it off for the most part. My parents had contemplated putting her down while I was gone but my sister’s objected, at least according to my parents.
That week, she followed me around like some paparazzi on Bieber. She wouldn’t let me leave her sight. I had left her for a year and a half, she was going to make sure I didn’t do that again. She had to travel with me to El Paso to pack my stuff, that’s how much she made sure I stuck around. I eventually moved out, and I would have her over on weekends because I lived just around the corner from my parent’s house. When I moved out of there, I had her over maybe once or twice a month because the drive was a bit further. When I moved into the place I am in now, well the visits stopped. I wasn’t any farther, but my landlady is pretty adamant on no dogs in the second floor. She’ll just have to make an exception for today.
I remember her when she was a pup. My neighbor friend, Tanner, had a Shih-Tzu and his mom breeded the dogs. We were about ready for a dog and my mom loved how their dogs looked so we got one. I named her Yoshi. My mom loved the girl. She was brushed constantly and her fur looked great. She loved running around. My mom even through her a birthday party and everything. It was dumb, but nice. Yoshi got a hernia, but we fixed it. We made sure she was okay. I remember taking her in for show-and-tell in 5th grade. My mom brought her and she ran around the class. Everyone in class had a blast seeing her all hyper. They all loved her name too.
We moved to Albuquerque and Yoshi had to meet my aunt and uncle’s bulldog, Jazzy. I still remember vividly seeing how terrified Yoshi was. She’d hide under a cabinet or curl up in a corner and look like a furball. Never the bravest, but adorable.
Soon after my mom wanted to breed her. We bought a stud Shih-Tzu. We named him Gizmo after he ended up looking like a Gremlin. Eventually Yoshi got pregnant, but it didn’t work. Yoshi lost her entire liter save one puppy. I remember our bright and playful dog definitely lost something at that time. She sulked a bit and slept a bit more. On her second liter, she had the same result. Only one surviving puppy. I forget if she had one or two more liters, but these ones worked. Yoshi got it together and happily had everything worked out. We even gave a few to the family. My grandma got one named Dolly, my cousins got one named Phoenix, and we kept one named Jo-Jo.
All seemed well.
The dog was always close to me. Through my angsty and sad teenaged years, she sat by me. When I was at my parent’s throats, she slept with me. She always stayed neutral. While she wouldn’t stay with me 24/7 seeing as she loved hanging out with everyone, she also wouldn’t let me stay alone.
That’s where it begins to blur. Between the fights, the girlfriend I was with, my dog wasn’t appreciated. She was just there. I liked hanging out with her, but I had other things to tend to. I regret that right about now.
When I was in El Paso, Yoshi took a lot of my thoughts. I had watched this video. That’s where the gears began to click. I missed my dog. My grandma’s dog had a really strong resemblance to Yoshi so when she would hang out with me at night, I had some deja vu with Yoshi coming to my room at night. I missed her. That video became a curse and every time I would watch it I would lose it thinking that I maybe lost my chance to see her again. Thankfully she stuck around.
So here I am. She’s sleeping next to me right now. There’s a clock in the wall ticking down in my head. 8:00 AM I will somehow find the courage to put down my best friend. She’s old. She even gets scared whenever you tap her to wake her up. It may not be the final minute I CAN have with her, but I’d rather let her rest sooner than be too late and lose her to something bad or let her endure more pain.
These last few months have been secretly hard on me. I’d think of her and begin to well up. It wasn’t until these last two weeks where I finally realized that I need to do this. I need to. I held her one week ago and she slept in my arms for about an hour. That moment was somber. I wished she would’ve just passed away there. It was peaceful. But I knew my head was finally okay with it. About 5 days later my mom told me she had made the appointment for Monday, tomorrow. I don’t have school tomorrow due to Spring Break, not that I’d care. I’m not going to miss taking her. She needs me now like I needed her all these years.
I have a soft spot for dogs. For animals in general, actually. These last few days have been hard. As dumb as it is to say, or maybe not dumb, but these are the most emotional few days I’ve ever had. I’ve been close to losing it in public, I’ve lost it almost every single car ride, I’ve lost it probably every couple of hours, I’m losing it right now. This is one of my best friends. The thing that sealed it was when I moved back. When I was weary of everyone, when it felt like everyone was weary of me, Yoshi didn’t care. She was all “YAY, FRIEND IS BACK. *CUDDLE CUDDLE CUDDLE*” Now, I look into her eyes, and she’s just doing her usual routine. I sit down, she climbs into my lap or curls up next to me and sleeps. Just 4 hours ago I saw her devour her favorite dog food. I gave her a few small bites of my dinner. I don’t want tonight to end. I don’t want to go to bed.
I just came home from my parent’s house where I picked her up, My sisters said goodbye. My mom said goodbye. We held her up again the dog she mated with and her son. My dad doesn’t want her to go now. You can tell. He always told me to, but he wants me to make sure that her check up means she can’t live more, but I think this is it. I can’t go back. She’s tired. I’m tired.
I wrote an essay for my class last week about my grandpa’s passing and how I regret not showing him compassion when he left and how I’m still kinda lost with him. But here I am, with my pup, really feeling my first death in my life. I think this means a lot that I’m finally understanding life.
I think that’s about all I can handle right now. My mind is spinning and I just don’t know. I think I’m gonna go to bed and hold my dog all night. Thanks to everyone who has been supporting me. It means the world to me. I rarely get emotional like this, but a dog as loyal as her, she’ll be missed for the rest of my life.
- I have three stories in my short stories collection about 95% completed.
- Three stories are being written progressively day by day.
- Three more stories are sitting in my head right now sizzling until I have enough of an idea to put pen to paper.
- The last story is still very, very vague in my head so aside from the title, I’m not touching it.
It’s getting tough. Aside from at the very least 1 of the stories, they’re all very grim and dire. I typically use my headspace to exert a lot of anger and frustration I have. I pushed a lot of it out a little while ago and lost a lot of the push I had to finish. I’m not going to give up, but it’s incredibly difficult to continue writing in the world I built when I’m… happy? Like I have 0 problems right now. I have successfully spent an entire year focusing on myself as a person. I’ve built myself some independence, which is something I haven’t truly had since I was… shoot probably about 14. I’ve had someone in my life almost every moment since that age, but as dumb as it sounds, I think my pushing away of dating and embracing quiet moments in life this year was me really just enjoying myself. I learned a lot about myself. I learned that I’ve grown as a person.
Through life, since I left California, I’ve been a pretty bitter kid. I projected my angers at people. Particularly with my ex-girlfriend. I would blame her a lot for issues. When I left to El Paso I spent the entire time finding my mind. Now, after I talked to her again after over a year of silence, she told me one bit of information that just made me so angry. I’m talking like top 5 moments of anger I’ve had in my life. I was furious, filled with angst. It felt like years of little issues I had behind the dam let loose which amplified everything tenfold. Instead of yelling at her and telling her that she was a terrible person, I held it and redirected it. I went on a writing frenzy and focused it all on there. I was in this sublime zone where I was the shit. I was all that mattered in the world. The only two things that existed was me and my story universe. I had worked from 3am to 6pm that day and I was writing from 10pm to 1am. I don’t know when, but I woke up and noticed a significant chunk of one story was written. I don’t remember a single specific moment from then. It was great. I hadn’t felt that pushed to write ever.
What did I learn most though? I didn’t do what I would’ve done. I would’ve gotten into an argument with her. I would’ve put her on blast since at that moment I felt that bitter. I didn’t though. I let my better self take over and I did what I love the most: write.
I went into 2013 expecting to rebuild bridges. Instead, I decided that perhaps instead of constructing the smaller bridges, I should focus on the main bridge and realize that I’m currently the most important person. I need to make sure I’m 100% as a whole person before I put myself out there for someone else. I’m an adult. I have bills to take care of, work to do, school work to finish. I needed to step into this side of life and spend time on me.
I’ve got about one more week until I’m 22. I’m so ready to fuck shit up next year. I’ve never been more ready than before. At 18 I was frustrated with my parents and my ex. At 19 I was struck with grief that I had ruined a lot of bridges. At 20 I was at a standstill with nowhere to go. At 21 I was the polar opposite and had thousands of life routes to go. Now, I spent a goddamn year making sure I felt like a king. I started college and went Spring, Summer, and Fall with a select few teachers loving my work. I worked two jobs at once. And admittedly, I spoiled myself with my spending, because fuck it! I was selfish this year, and I am okay with admitting that. I never had a full year to do what I want.
I picked an easier school semester. I’m wrapping up my second job. I’m working in a manager situation. I’m close to finishing up my website redesign after months of tinkering with it. I’m about 50% done with my collection of stories. And after moving around a bunch, I finally settled on a year lease in a two bedroom apartment with my favorite cat! I’m settled and I have a few more weeks to complete a couple more things. But—
I’m going to rock the fuck out of school.
I’m going to keep a steady flow of content on my site.
I’m going to wrap up my story and try as hard as I can to publish.
I’m going to open myself up and make some new connections.
2013, your move is about over. 2014, get the fuck ready. I’m not even playing around this time.
You know how people say bands get “worse” because the fire in their eyes goes away after they have nothing to be angry at anymore? I feel like I’m in the angry phase of my life, but I let go of a bunch. Last month, I had years of pent up anger all go at once and it was beautiful. I harnessed it intro creativity instead of moping. I wrangled every emotion and wrote. Since then… I’ve been super content with life. Like not really bothered by issues. Not angry at all. That doesn’t bode well with how my stories were shaping up.
I need something to be angry at. Or some more inspiration. :|
If I could write twists as good as the ones that pop up in my life, I’d be the next best seller.
I was writing a novel for the past 6 months, but after a turn of thoughts, I decided to shift ideas to a short story collection. I’ve completed about 3 stories so far. One of them will be stretched out longer, but other than some edits, that means I’m estimated to be about 30% done with this bitch of a creative-fest I’ve had.
I want 10 stories. I want about 200 pages though. 150-300 is the vicinity of where I wanna land. I’ve got general ideas for 6 of the last 7 stories. I may or may not add a few more just to make the package beefier.
I spat out the first story back in March and I spit out two more this month. The way I produce these is really sporadic. I got my inspirational burst back in March and produced the first story that way. I’ve sat on the second story for months and months just trying to clear it from the haze that I call my brain. The third one came to me randomly a few days ago on my normal daydream marathons while driving and it was done that night. I wish I could have a stable schedule.
I’m hoping by mid 2014 that I can wrap this up and figure out publishing. Self-publishing seems the way to go. I’ve got one friend reading it who’s totally stoked on what I’ve got so far though, so I am considering pitching it around. I don’t know! I just know I want the stories in text first. Let’s start to make some official grounding here, yeah?
People always need a hand up in certain situations. Over the years, I’ve managed to make myself into a trustworthy person for people to vent to. Which is all good, of course. The problem is that I end up worrying over everyone.
Many of my friends have been going through a real rough patch of life. Many of them have wandered off and have been closing up to the world. Whenever I offer to hang out with them or for them to tag along with a friend and I, they close up. It sucks to witness, but I just gotta keep telling myself that people mend on their own sometimes. I had the very same thing happen to me.
I’m glad many of them appreciate me for being around though. Honestly. There are some people who will always make you feel like it was a waste of time, but then there are others who will remember you always for being around. I’m a strong believer in karma, and I just want people to do the right things so good things will happen to them. T’is all.
One step forward, two steps back.
That’s all the past 365~ days have been for me. I’m still making progress, but it’s so annoying.
My life over the past almost 3 weeks has been a total change. I have no qualms and am quite happy with it :D