Saturday, July 16, 2005

my everything died love, my life, my heart, my soul, my baby

this was taken THE morning, her last morning...7/15/05. what were pamuk's last thoughts... did she know what awaited her?

i don't know if i made the right choice, i was told it was the only choice so i hold onto that.

i will write more as i am stronger, there will be more pictures on her website, more on her myspace page, more more more.

for now, i am drained and exhausted and empty and bereft. everywhere i turn she should be. every place is her place. every spot she has roamed. her eyes should be gazing back at me and i should be hearing her nails clicking on the scale, or the scale as she steps on it... or her little noises asking for food, water, treats, the door, the porch, the rose bush, her window seat, her throne, my lap, the bed... my love.

all of this will live in my heart.. but for now it aches with a fierceness i never imagined. something i cannot imagine ever rolling back enough to breathe without pain, or think without fear.

my days are empty and my nights are lonely, and they shall never, ever, be the same. i miss my angel, my baby, my love... i miss pamuk.