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I Never Want To Re-Read This
June 25, 2015 Thursday 7:29 PM
[This is pretty much all about April so you probably don't want to read it. Also, I'm feeling a bit down so I don't really want to answer messages for the next couple days, sorry]
I don't feel that great today and wasn't planning on writing but ehhh.
I'm just going to talk about my day, as boring as that is.
I woke up at half past seven. My dad was in my room, turning off the AC. He said, "Too cold," and I murmured something that might've been, "I like too cold, I like too cold,"
And then he was crying and god, I hate that. I hate remembering that my dad is a human being (oh and he gave back my phone last night because I calmed myself, yay?).
He's done that before. One time, two years ago or something, he came into my room early one morning. I woke up to him crying and as awful as this sounds, I just got this really sick feeling in my stomach. Not like, "Oh, poor dad," but like, "Gross, he's crying..." He said something like "your mother doesn't love me anymore."
I was gonna say that he was just being dramatic, as usual, but I just remembered that back then, he and my mom were having marital issues or whatever. My mom regularly used to complain about him to me while I sat there, looking out the window, stressed and sometimes crying. I don't know why I was so worried... I'm dramatic, too, I guess. They went to counseling and they're better now, is the point.
(Let me just say, though, that my dad is a dramatic guy. October of 2013, he told me he had skin cancer with this very grave look on his face and I spent like a month stressing over it only to find out that it was benign. I WAS SO MAD. HE DID NOT THINK TO MENTION THAT TO ME???)
I got off track. How do I even do that, my tangents aren't even interesting.
SO. He was crying and he said, "April's gonna die."
And I just. I'm awful. I'm honestly awful. I was semi-concerned, but it's not like that's news??? It's kidney failure. Unless they catch it early, it's just a tad fatal.
You know what, I'm the child here and he's the one who still hasn't accepted the fact that she's dying?
He kept saying, "Let's give her time to bounce back," And...
Well, I don't want to hurt him. He should know better and besides, I've said it a thousand times, she's dying.
Right now, she can't get up. She's been in the basement all day, sleeping on some blankets and a pillow. I wish she was up here so that I could be with her all the time, but she only just barely made it down there and doesn't have enough strength to walk back up. Maybe I can ask dad to carry her.
Am I just heartless? Am I? I care that she's dying but part of me is just like, "Oh, just die already please," and I'm thinking about what I'll wear to her funeral and thinking about getting another dog from the shelter...
And then I realize what I'm doing and I want to hit myself and stop thinking forever.
I think I just deal with it badly. Because I also like to discuss the really grisly details and my family asks me to stop but that's how I get it out of my system. I need to discuss it. I need to tell you about the symptoms. I need to ask about the body, what we're going to do with it, where we'll dig the grave.
I'M A HORRIBLE PERSON.
I love my doggy, I do. I love her softness and her personality (she's gentle and nervous and energetic and eclectic), but in some ways, her going will be a relief.
No more will I have to apologize for her public outbursts. No more will our house smell like pee. No more playing when I'm tired because she only JUST decides to be silly at ten at night. No more difficult baths in which she shivers and shies away from me. No more medications and checking for ticks.
But you know, some of those things I actually don't mind too much. I really hate how angry she sounds in public and the other day, she almost bit a child. His mom gave me the most judgmental look I've ever had the pleasure of receiving and it made me tired again.
The other stuff, I can deal with. It bothers me to some degree, but I'd be willing to continue enduring it for her. It's not THAT bad.
I used to wake up in the morning to her sitting by the window, quietly barking at the birds. They're really loud at that time. She likes to shove her nose affectionately against me. She used to run up to me, barely containing herself, whenever I got home.
She tore up my favorite comforter, but I didn't really care. We tried to cut her nails once but she freaked out and the nail clipper ended up cutting her toe. I used to, when she was still puppy-like, keep her in my room for about an hour and force her to listen to me read stories out loud. Jesus, poor April. I've spent a good portion of my life lying on the floor next to her because I wanted to pet her and watch her sleep.
I'm really sleepy. I got like five hours of sleep last night.
I'm awful. I'm going to miss her. Maybe I shouldn't get another doggy. I hate when pets die, it's uncomfortable and sad. They can't talk to me, I wish they could talk to me.
Anyway... I'm done talking about this.
I spent the day practicing ukulele (I want to learn to play the harp, it's so pretty) and singing to April. I went down there every twenty or so minutes and tried getting her to drink water. She seems ok.
I also watched some Tales of Mere Existence videos as well as reading some diaries.
Oh! I'm almost done cleaning my room. I threw away all my school shit and moved my desk back into my room (my desk surface is dry-erase and I know Ethan was here because he wrote poop all over it). I didn't go outside today, I'm lame. I just don't have a reason anymore because April has been sick. It's not fun going to the cemetery without her, she's my buddy. This whole situation is lame.
And I can't process it. Like I can, but at the same time, I'm just so feelingless towards it, I don't think I should ever have a baby pet again because?? Shouldn't it have an owner who will cry forever when they die??
I half don't want to publish this because it's pretty much all about April.
On the bright side, despite the sadness (or I guess lack of sadness and instead, guilt) in this entry, today was a good day. Productive.
I have to go do homework now. I have to have the first chapter of my history book done by next Wednesday (yes, we have summer homework that we have to turn in via email during the break. I have it for AP US history and for ELA).
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