The inevitable pain...

 Small moments filled with peace, an unbearable sorrow unfounded, unshaped, unwilling and absence of presence. Small voices in the distance, a tranquility that stands between sleep and wakeful bliss. Lost in the space between an animal I know will die one day, the regrets I will have for not touching for fear of a lack of breath, the pain and emptiness left behind every time I look at pictures, the painful knowledge of her eventual, yet not far enough off, death. I ache at the thought, losing my mind in her beauty, her sweet understanding and love, despite my inability to overcome simple allergies. I regret, I mourn before the passing, I take every moment of courage into account and cherish the few pictures I am actually able to take, fear residing behind the camera knowing that when I look at them after the loss of her, I will weep in torment and guilt.

This peace, this kind of irrational determination to undermine my own peace, this moment where peace and a future of pain known all to well to be coming, this tormenting relentlessness that ceases every thought in my being but the thought of my love for her. The undying love in front of my eyes blending with the corpse that will steel my heart and break my soul. Every insanity I have subjected her to, every ignorant but well intentioned childhood act that taught me to truly cherish and love her, and every moment I look into her eyes and realize how beautiful this creature could be, how majestic that moment that she blinks slowly, fading from rest to sleep and back again. The lasting moments I share in my dreams, nestled and smothered by the nightmare of her blood on my hands.

I feel the guilt pouring out every time I see her, I know she is going to leave and not of her own will either. She is destined for death, just as all eventually are, but seeing and knowing what will be are two different things. I fear it, I forsake her inwardly for leaving before she has turned away, I hate and loathe but tread heavily on the guilt of it all in that moment that my skin touches her soft fur. I long for her immortality, hoping to some higher being that may or may not exist to extend her into vampirism if necessary if only to see her live long and healthy.

Curled up beside me now, she sleeps and breaths as if time had stopped, as if all that mattered was the itch under her skin every now and again, or the moment of my fingers over keys that wakes her to blinking and fading off to sleep once more. One day, the day she no longer wakes, that is my fear, my stem of guilt, my outlasting pain that hovers endlessly. Will I come home and she will be gone? Will I find her one day on the road after a driver decided their phone was more important that the life of a loved one? What would I do if she were to be in a hospital, lying there frail and old, at the end of her life, silently whispering for my hand to lift from her cold, forlorn body? How the tears shed even from the thought, how my mind aches and body reals at the eventual time's come. I wish time could stop. I wish her moments could forever be frozen. I do not want to take pictures, I do not want to lose the only one who loved me despite the lack of love I was deprived of all those years ago.

How many years has it been? How old is she? Should I find out just to know how much longer she had to live? If I were to know, how should I not see her as a walking corpse only days, years from that fated moment. I want to remain ignorant, I want to make time stop with my ignorance, hoping her slowly aging body will cease only at the end of my own. How I wish she could last forever, but I also ponder on the thoughts of when she will go, of how much time I have left to take as many photos as I can, to love her and make up for the days I did not smother my face with her fur. The days I did not hug her and hold her tightly when I missed her or felt scared or lonely. The times I did not pet her endlessly because my hand had a cut and was becoming swollen. How I would wish I could just love her as much as possible regardless of any thing my body might do to me in retaliation. How I would wish I could have loved her more, showed her more of how I would miss her, had been around more.

May thought forbid if I were to be absent in her passing. I do not know if I would survive that. I love her too much. I miss her too much. I want her to live forever too much. So much so that I take advantage of my hope and dismiss the future as if a common passing. She is irreplaceable. She is impossibly my other self. She is the path that drove me to sanity. She is everything to me and I do not know how I would feel if she had gone. At this point, tears are not possible to stop. I have given up trying. I will cry for her when she dies. I will weep when I think about it. I will die inside every time I come home and cannot find her. I will miss her and when the time comes, I would die with her if it meant I could be with her forever. If not, I will take her ashes with me to my grave and cherish her endlessly loved life even in death. I will never forget her, never hate her, never forgive myself for being unable to touch her without washing my hands afterwards. I will love her. I will love her. I will forever and for always, I will love her.

Kitty, you will be loved for the rest of eternity, dead or not, I will see you every day for the rest of time. I will love you. No matter life or death. I will love you.