Some... Eh news, for those of you whom do not choose to read my journals.
Today, my guinea pig passed away.
Yesterday afternoon, he had a seizure.
I got home early yesterday....
Today, he passed away at the same time.
When I got the news, I almost collapsed onto the asphalt of a parking lot and balled up.
My mom held onto me and wouldn't allow me to fall.
I can't.. proccess this.
When I got home, I was asked if I wanted to say a goodbye to him before he was buried.
I just curled up into a tight ball, started shaking like all hell, and screamed,"I can't!" Over and over (there were maybe two second pauses between each scream, my throat is raw) for about five minutes or so straight while bawling.
I almost pushed myself into a panic attack.
It's been a good day, it was one.
And I just can't accept the fact that my guinea pig is, well... he's gone.
I spent five years with him.
I even grew to consider myself his mother. (Probably unhealthy.)
I'm never going to be able to hold him again, tell him that I love him, say good morning or good night to him.
I feel a weird sort of void that I don't think I can explain.
It feels like something I've known for millions of years is just... gone.
I won't see his bright hazel eyes greeting me, I'll never comfort again, I'll never help him after a nightmare, I'll never get to just.. be there for him.
And I wasn't when he passed.
He passed in his sleep, but.
I wanted to go that way, it still hurts.
I still want to scream.
I want to punch a fucking wall in and hope he's safe behind it.
That's not how life works.
(Don't hate me for saying this, please.)
My. child. is. fucking. GONE.
I'm going to chill out until I stop crying for now (maybe sketch up a species idea..), because I'm having issues seeing.