Soul Mates.

Journal Entry no. 2

I see her name. And I wish she was with me now. Instead, I have only a little mottled bottle with her name engraved on the outside and a little clear bag with white ashes inside. And I have a wooden basket painted a bright shade of green. It reminds me of happy times. It reminds me of spring and new life. But there is no life here, only an empty food bowl and an empty water bowl, a stick and a ball that will never be played with again, and a little collar that's either purple or pink in color, but who's to say because I could never quite be sure even though I look at it now.

I'm not sure if I believe in soulmates, if I believe in the idea of two souls destined to be together. But I somehow feel like losing her was losing my soulmate. I feel like we were meant to be together. She was my best little companion, not just a friend, but someone I needed. Someone I needed to love, to care for, to grow with. And maybe, in the deepest recesses of our being, we knew we didn't need each other anymore.

Some won't understand the empty space we experience by the death of an animal. I find this strange, because they are animals and we could never hope to be as good as them. And we could never love as pure as they.

And though I loved her, I think she loved me more. I think she knew how much she meant to me and how important she was in my life. She was always there for me, a comfort when I needed to be comforted. I wonder if she felt my sadness too in those moments. I wonder if she wanted to help me in any way she could. I wonder if that's why she would sit with me in those times, or bring me one of her toys so I could play with her. She knew that always brought a smile to my face.

I got her through an extreme accident and nursed her back to health for months. I stayed up the entire night with her in the bathroom when she was sick and it was too cold to leave her outside.

There was such a deep connection between us, an understanding that goes beyond human comprehension. We fed off each other's emotions. We supported each other. 

Maybe it's like they say and we were destined to be together. Maybe the universe knew I needed her.

As I reminisce for the years we spent together, I know a part of me will always miss her, for she was more than a dog. She was my companion. She was my soulmate.

Journal Entry.

 A Saturday night as I sit to write this. So many things on my mind, so many things have happened. I don't know what to write about, but I know I want to write and that is why I am here. I suppose I feel like I'm just writing words, to write something, anything, to fill up the page. Much like I do for NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) every November. I suppose that's a good place to start. Is it ok to start two sentences right next to one another with "I suppose"? It probably doesn't matter, at least that's what I'm telling myself right now.

Anyway, about NaNoWriMo. I'm the ML, or "leader/volunteer" for my region now. That's pretty exciting. It takes a lot out of me sometimes. I enjoy it though, I so enjoy the writing community that I always get. I've already started prepping for this November, thinking about where I want to host events and getting together goodie bags for my fellow writers.

Sometimes I wonder if I'm doing a good job and if my absence from the group chat/servers has caused people to grow tired of me as their ML. I want to believe the best of them, but I also doubt myself and I keep telling myself I should be doing more. I should be more present. Maybe I'm too hard on myself and everything is ok and we'll have another great year. That's what I'd like to believe.

I'm trying to have a better outlook on things, to be more positive in my thinking. It's not always easy. Though I have been on a journey of self-discovery the last couple of years. I've become more sure about some things, mainly that I don't really understand much. Such as, what is real and what exists and what happens after we die?

Loosing loved ones makes you think about that a lot. With everyone saying, "we'll see them again one day", I have to ask myself, "am I different?" Am I different for not sharing this belief by those around me? Am I different for telling myself, "I may never see them again"? Am I a bad person for wondering, "maybe there isn't anything after this"? 

Or maybe there is. And maybe we still exist, in some form or energy. And maybe we don't share the memories we have with us now. So maybe we will see one another again, in a different form, in a different life. Maybe we'll be floating in the cosmos. And we'll be sad at first, but then we'll know we are safe and we won't even question the possibility of who we once were. And somewhere, deep down, we'll know it was all worth it.