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Lace's Public Journal
I fail to give a s**t about people seeing my innermost thoughts, just as long as my family never reads this then ******** ALL. I'll be damned before I censor my self again.
Missing Things
I kinda miss my job from last summer. Im not sure if it's because I really loved what I was doing or if I just miss doing something... well, for a reason. I certainly don't miss having to wake up at six in the morning, even though waking up early on a constant schedule seems to be good for my mental state... but I miss being involved with finding bugs on that website.
I was a co-op intern for Nexia Home Intelligence at IR. XD its an engineering internship btw, which is funny, because I am an art student. I just so happen to live in a house that has most of the equipment the site uses and I already knew how to work the technical side of it, besides they really just needed someone to help them out for the summer. I really wish I could have worked for them longer, not just because it paid ridiculously well for an internship, but because I liked the job. It was the first time when I really felt like I was doing something well enough to stand out. I got praised for picking up on the job so quickly and I even got assigned to a difficult project by myself. I was in my element, and for the first time in my life I felt natural, as if I was in the right place.
But I guess everything has an ending, like the last bite of a really good brownie or a nasty relationship, everything has a stopping point. It's almost as if on your journey along the path that life takes you there are millions of stop signs, and at each one, even though you move on after pausing, that pause is just long enough for a part of you, a part of your life, to step off you 'Me train' and leave you forever. It enters the realm of your past and all you get to keep are your memories, which also seem to drift away at each stop sign you pass. Nothing lasts for ever, and one of the Stop signs will be your last. So why can't I keep the things I don't want to lose, like my favorite person, Sandy, who just had to die in pain, or that job that had given me a glimpse of purpose? Why does there have to be a stop sign for everything in my life and why is it okay for life to put them there?
I don't like endings, not when it's the last word of a good book and especially not when it's the end of something important to me. I really can't stand having lost Sandy. I really can't stand the idea that she 'had' to go. Why? Why could I at least get to see her one last time? Why wasn't I allowed to say good-bye? It isn't fair. I know life in'st fair, but why? I just wanted to give her the good-bye she deserved.
Just using the past tense with her still hurts me. It isn't natural. I just want to hold her one more time, tell her how important she IS, how much I LOVE her. But I can't. All I can do is talk to an empty room and pretend she can hear me. I cant. I wont ever hear her whine again, never see her light brown eyes as she begs for a piece of bacon, as she mooches a piece of steak from my plate. I LOVE her. Just because she no longer breathes doesn't mean that it should be in the past tense. I will never have "loved" her, it will always be "love" because she was the only one that I really needed. She was my baby. My perfect dog, Sandy. I miss her so much. I don't want to say good-bye. Never. It would be too much. I don't think I am ready to move on, to be able to only smile at her memory. My loss of her still feels too sharp, too painful. Even now, although you can't see the wet drops on these digital pages, I am crying, because I miss her.
Why did life have to make a stop sign for Sandy? Why couldn't they just give me this one thing, this one security blanket, that always kept me off the deep end. I feel so alone without her, I feel so lost. I just want to give her belly scratches and run my fingers through her (according to my parents and sister, always smelly) black and white coat. I want her to lick my face, so I crinkle up my nose in disgust and wipe away her saliva. I want to bury my face in her neck and cry why she, in her innocence, melts away my fears. I want her back. But she is gone forever.

I will always love my baby, my mooch, my mutt, Sandy. Forever. No past tense.

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