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  • I cry, mostly, when it's weird. It's surreal. The death of the one, and I mean THE ONE, you love most. It's the strangest feeling you can imagine. It's like they're there. It's complete delusion. Grief makes you feel like a crazy person. And, quite frankly, I don't know when it ends.

    I came to it close. I had a cat for 18 years, Beardsly. He was the first thing I truly loved. Truly loved from a perspective outside of myself, within myself. He dies. I could never have a cat again. That was love. I grieved. I still, have never sought out a cat of my own. I now reside with one and he's comfort. I feel a resonate heartbeat from Beardsly within him.
    I'm waiting for this sort of residual existence.

    I'm waiting for something to take her place in something sentient, something I can hold & something I can touch. It hasn't happened. I doubt it ever will.

    This is my first stab at loss. The irreplaceable. My mother. My idol. My fucking dog outlived her. This wasn't supposed to happen. Yet, somewhere in the depths of my emotional reasoning (yeah, impossible) I felt that it was to be true. I spent a childhood living without rules, without regard to anything. Now, I am scared to fucking live how I feel. Crippled by security.

    Like Linus without his blanket. I too, am lost.

    I actually had a blanket at birth. It was a baby shower present to my mother/me. Had it throughout my toddler years. Apparently, I loved it so much my mom had to buy me a second one so she could wash one while I clutched the other. Perhaps I was screwed from the beginning in every Freudian way possible. I wish attachment was, still, so replaceable. However, it will never be.
    I don't want a replacement. That's what makes this grief so different from losing a cat or a blanket, or whatever you think is fucking special. No one on earth can replace her. She is unexplainable, untouchable, tangential - at best.

    It makes me want to jump out of windows. It makes me search. Not for god. Not for love. Not for peace. I search for the most egocentric possibilities of myself. Why? Because everything I express is half hers. Trial and error to see which bits I can replicate. Which parts of myself can dance with hers. It's a game I'll play for life. It's the only way I can live.

    We will all lose our mothers, or be lost first.

    I just hope you see equivalent of the comet that I saw the night my mother died. It was unreal, and it has been ever since.
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