invot

First Name: Jared
Last Name: Steffen
Email: invot19@yahoo.com
Jabber/GTalk: invot

I simply can never be sure if I made the right decision. Maybe there wasn't a right choice for me to make. Maybe it wasn't my choice at all. No matter. She's gone. That's what matters. I never loved anyone or anything like I loved her. I still love her. I still cry over her. She was my baby girl. Yogi. And she was there through the good times and the many, many bad times that populated my teenage life. When things went wrong, I'd pick her up, wrap her in my arms and remind myself that in the deepest, most intimate part of my world, it was just me and her. And that's all I needed. That's all that mattered. But, you see, nobody is immune to tragedy. Even Yogi. Her life had it's chaotic moments, just like mine. The woman I adopted Yogi from found her and her brother, Yoda, in a dumpster, abandoned by her mother. I can remember how her little body shook when I gently wrapped a single hand around her entirely. I looked at her crazy kitten smile for the first time. She was so scared. You could see it in her eyes. But as time went on, she cultivated a sense of extreme bravery, attacking everything she saw. She was wild. She was happy. And she wasn't scared anymore. Every day was an adventure for her. She found her way into all kinds of kitten-esque shenanigans and found her way back out with a grace that could only be her own. But, as I said, nobody's immune to tragedy. Not even Yogi... I know what it's like to be poor. I know what it's like to live in a slum. I tired my best to clean up the house I rented. I scrubbed the walls, the counters, and pretty much every square inch of every room. I hung up artwork to cover the holes in the walls, decorated the antiquated bathroom fixtures with relics I found at the thrift store. With what little I had, I was able to make the place look a bit more livable. The problem was, the house only looked livable. Little did I know, there was an invisible monster infecting our happy home. One day, Yogi and I both got really sick. I assumed we just caught ourselves a cold, but as the weeks passed and I got better, Yogi only got worse. She was tired all the time. She hardly ate. She never left the bed. With what little money I could gather up, I decided to bring her to the vet. When the doctor took a look at her, he became very quiet. In her eyes I could see a fear that could only be matched by my own. My world broke to pieces, leaving only empty space in which I could plummet and fall forever, as he spoke to me. Feline leukemia. She was in phase six. The last phase. what comes after that is... she... you know... The vet explained to me what kind of pain she was in. She no longer could see. Her retinas have detached. She could hardly walk. Her bones were dissolving. Of all the ways to... this was the last one I could think would happen to Yogi. My baby. My love. Who gave me reason. Who gave me love. Who gave me all the joys in the world. I watched it happen. I wanted to hold her so much, run my hand down her back and tell her how much I love her. But I couldn't move. I was too afraid to make that moment real. I was too scared that the look in her eyes would change into something unfamiliar. The eyes I woke up to for years. The eyes I loved. My baby's lovely, lovely eyes. There are no other eyes like hers. Sometimes I wonder what I am to do now. Where do I go from there? That moment in the vet's office where I watched her drift away from this world... it was her last moment, and in a way, it was my last moment as well. What now? What am I still doing here? I wanted more than anything to go with her. Really. So I live on. Why? I have no idea. I live remembering her. Every day. Hoping that she's somewhere still...

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