First Weekend

I'm going to start posting these things therapeutically from now on, so if you're reading, I hope you enjoy, but I can't promise much light reading!

This weekend marks not only the first weekend (and therefore first extended period of time in my flat) I've ever had without Felix being here or knowing that he's in good hands. To say that it's been a mixed bag of emotions simply wouldn't do it justice.

I still get nervous letting Scrambles outside, but I've tried to console myself by leaving my back doors open and sitting out on the decking, not necessarily watching him, but being close. On Wednesday, I sat on the patio playing with him for about 40 minutes, just prepping myself to let him go off.

The weekends were usually the times where I'd wake up and find Felix squashed beyond the realms of physics right up against me, either between my knees, under my arm or even between me and my girlfriend.

So this morning had a nasty shock wherein I temporarily woke up at 6am to find Scrambles tucked under my arm, but in my tired state and the manner in which Scrambles was lying made it look like Felix was right there, in his brother's fur.

Heart sank to a new low for just a moment.

I go through spells of guilt now, as I successfully keep my mind off Felix for just the briefest moments; whether it's at work or at home. I still very much resent the fact that I have to remember my cat, and not actually have him here. Things will get better eventually, but this is still so very difficult.

I'm sick of feeling sad, sick of feeling guilty, sick of having to preoccupy myself, and I'm sick of how he's not here. But that's the joy of grieving, I guess.

Scrambles keeps reaching out and touching me with his paw, which is most definitely unlike him, so I must be looking pretty pathetic if even he's giving me some sympathy!

We stagger on, Scrambles and I, but for now, the world just doesn't seem right.