This past weekend was particularly hard for me. At one time, I cried really hard like I lost someone. Well, I did, but it wasn’t a person, rather our dog, Augie. He got sick and passed away.
The way I was carrying on, it was like I was wailing for a loved one. But Augie was a loved one and it was particularly hard for me because even though I was always the one not at home, ergo, not with him, I am the resident true-blue dog lover at home. I have been since I was little. He knew it because I was his favorite human. Isay and Augie were the first dogs I had again after many years.
I am haunted by regrets–for not having played with him more, for sometimes being strict with him, for other things we/I should have done but didn’t, or did but should not have done. Everyone has emotionally moved on, though it’s not to say they didn’t care, but I am still here wondering whatever else that I should have done for him.
It sucks because I’m the type of personality that does not forget incidences in my life that make me regret things MANY YEARS AFTER. Like not helping strangers when I probably should have (even when I try to replay things in my head, I cannot see how I could). Or accidentally causing the death of a street cat instead of saving it, which was my actual intention. Or abruptly losing a friendship over a single phone call because I lost my temper and the other person happened to be sensitive, and I never heard from her again, ever, even when I tried to to reach out and wrote a letter, hoping she’d get to read it. Or saying kind of mean things about others when I was in high school (I wasn’t mean-mean, but high school does bring out the meanness in people once in a while)…
Yes, I still carry those in my heart and they’re eating at my conscience. I am always brave enough to sincerely say sorry, and I did in various occasions, but still, the guilt is there. Sometimes, it’s already irrational, and my brain knows it but my heart is sad anyway. I know I will carry this in years to come, whether I try to ignore it or not.