If I should go before you
When that long night comes
We’ll meet in the edge the after
Please don’t follow me into the sun

Well, it’s here, a day I’ve been dreading in some ways for almost a year, Presley’s birthday. On February 15th, 2015, some sweet dog somewhere, gave birth to a dog that two years later, I would fall so wholly in love with, a dog that would be my best friend for 5 and a half years. A dog that when I lost her, I never knew the weight it would leave.

I had an appointment with my medication prescriber today, she’s part medication management, part therapist. We talked for an hour about how I’m feeling in general, what my days have looked like, how I get myself back to work, all the things. I was able to say something out loud that I’ve never had someone I was comfortable enough to say to. Two really hard things have happened to me in the last year and a half. My fiancé left me. My dog died. I was able to really process and make peace with my ex leaving over the last few weeks, it genuinely felt like a weight was lifted off of me, a feeling I’ve never experienced to this degree before, it was so lovely. I haven’t been able to jump the hurdle of making peace with my dog, I think because it’s so permanent.

“When I think about the fact that she’s gone, that I’ll never see her, pet her, kiss her again, it feels like an elephant is on my chest, it feels like I can’t breathe, like I’m suffocating.”

That’s what I said out loud to my doctor today. Being the macho man I am I held in all the tears that now stream down my face. When I think about this stuff, I can usually only write about it. It’s not that I don’t want to talk about it, it’s that I physically can’t. I get choked up, the words just wont come out.

She would have been 9 this year. I’m going to bake a funfetti cake tomorrow, as a sort of way of honoring her. I know dogs aren’t supposed to have cake, but every birthday she had some sort of cake, human cake, dog cake, cake cake, you know.

I sit here and I think about how sad I am that she didn’t make it to 9. I blame myself, and I torture myself with thoughts like “I should have done more.” or “did the food I was feeding her give her cancer? was it the stuffed toys?” I think for me it was so unexpected and fast, that I still feel behind in rationalizing all of it. Also how the fucking fuck are you supposed to fucking rationalize your best friend being gone forever.

I think about how unfair it is. How I see dogs that are not well taken care of and they live for years and years beyond 8. How there’s people who take their dogs for granted, and again those dogs live years and years beyond 8. I’m not mad at the dogs, I’m mad at the people. Fucking appreciate what you have. None of the good things in life are guaranteed, they can disappear at a moments notice. One day you’re living your best life, engaged, amazing dog, beautiful soon to be wife, safe, comfortable home. About to interview for your dream job. Before you know it everything is gone. Fiance left, dog died, house sold, job on hold because your mental health is so fragile you can’t go around the fucking block without having a panic attack.

It’s Presley’s birthday, and I’m not going to allow myself to make it a bad day. It’s a day of celebration. If I can’t celebrate her age, I’ll celebrate the life she had, the memories, the companionship. I may be angry, but I have to put my feelings aside for a day, and enjoy the day the way she would have wanted me to.

If I should go before you
Into the great unknown
I’ll leave my ghost right beside you
You won’t have to wait alone

And when the night cries itself away
Dyin’ in the light of day
Our endless love will remain
Until we meet

Where the skies are gold not gray,

J.