A sharp intake of breath

Someone said something so kind today it made me wince and cry.

Pain that's all. Soon I will be able to breathe properly again. I wonder why, when I am upset, it's not usually my gut or heart that really clutches. It's my lungs, it's the air inside me that seems to stop suddenly.

So I am sad. Went out, got some necessities, got my hair cut and my eyebrows done, tried to work, tried to study, nothing. So now, time to be sad.

I write this for myself, no-one need join me in it.

Dear Monty Scabcat.

I could talk to you about the life you should have had, but there's no point. In fact there's no point in any of this. But if you had to have a death now, it should have been painless and perhaps here, in this house of mine, where nothing would hurt you, and you could sleep on a cushion in front of the fire, dreaming your way into the dark, and I would be nearby, not so close as to oppress you, but close enough if you needed anything, if you grew afraid or wanted a headrub.

At least you are not cold, not in pain, not hungry. And futile though the love of this stranger is, you have it.

We are not going to have a proper goodbye, so this song is for you: not entirely appropriate,but something feels about right. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4dAH0ed6CaU