I had a post all ready to write about the weekend, but I don't want to. We put the dog down and it was sad and I feel terrible. And the next day, my boyfriend rolled my finger up in his car window. I cried because it hurt. And that crying knocked loose some grief, and then I cried because the dog deserved better than what she got. I cried because I let my ex take her when we split and by the time I took her back, it was too late to save her. I cried because I let her down. I cried because the last thing I did for her was hold her lolling head as she slowly fell asleep forever. And then we got some brunch and life went on. Oh-bla-di Oh-bla-da.
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