Numb.

Tired.

I’m not right.

I’m definitely not okay.

I don’t know if my current state is a result of grief and depression or if it is COVID.

Our world crumbles. My world destroyed.

What is life?

Nothing is right. Nothing is normal.

Slow. I adjust to the new normal.

It’s been a week.

Tonight, it’ll be exactly a week.

I okay.

A big O K. But I’m not okay.

I’m not well.

I’m grieving. Mourning.

Normal.

I have feelings. I’m emotional.

Normal.

I’m okay.

Numb.

I go through the week as a zombie. I go through the week like I normally do, but not normal.

I wake up at my normal time, go through my normal routine of starting my morning and then it changes.

The New Normal.

Since I don’t have to take Pickles on a walk anymore, I’ve taken to going on my typical weekend morning walks.

Zigzag down the neighborhood streets.

I got nothing else to do. I got more time than I need.

I need SOMETHING.

Something that feels like how it was.

Out, walking Pickles in the morning.

But no more.

Not anymore.

Sad.

I’m surviving.

I’m living.

Day. After. Day.

One day at a time.

Loss.

That’s all you can do.

One day at a time.

Embrace your emotions. Let it run its course and then move on.

I still find myself calling for Pickles.

Go-Jay Go-Jay

Doggy Doggy

Pickles Pickles

It always come in pairs.

It always come in pairs.

I miss you.

I hurt. My heart. Shattered.

Broken.

Just dust in the wind.

Gone.

I know I’ll be okay, but will I ever be the same?

It’s like how it was with my dad, but different.

He’s been such a big part of my life in the past 14 plus years.

Pickles taught me so much about patience.

He filled my void.

He means so much to me.

My adulthood, he’s been with me.

My good times. My growth as a person, into who I am today.

He’s been with me for every step.

Pickles saved me.

Who would have known that a dog, a pound puppy that no one wanted, could save this broken man’s life?

Pickles.

He was always game for everything, especially when he was younger.

He was so eager to go anywhere I would go, excited when I move to the door and leave whether he was coming with me or not.

He waited so patiently for me to come home. Some days not so patient.

We had our growing pains.

He was my first pet.

He was the first thing that I ever had to take care of.

He gave me something to live for. Something that I was responsible for.

Life.

His life.

I had a purpose.

He gave me purpose.

Pickles was the best friend anyone can ask for.

Always down for my adventures. Always down for road trips.

He didn’t care where we were going, as long as we were going together.

I couldn’t have asked for a better copilot.

Fuck man, he was the best.

Pickles.

We were soulmates.

I would always tag my pictures with him with #soulmates.

He was.

He understood me and I think I understood him.

We would look at each other and realize that we knew that the other was okay.

But, no more.

He’s gone.

I’m left behind to pick up the pieces of my soul and mend.

I’m not alone.

Relish keeps me company, but it’s not the same.

I can’t read her.

I don’t know how she’s dealing with Pickles’s loss.

I don’t know if she understands.

I think she does.

I hope they said their goodbyes.

I said my goodbyes and it wasn’t enough.

I think I’m done today.

It won’t be the last time that I’ll write about Pickles.

I miss you bud. I hurt. You are loved.

Thank you for my life.

I love you.