This Should Be a Non-Issue.

You know what sucks? My dog died.



Almost three years ago. Two days before Christmas. I was seventeen.



I'm twenty now, and life has hit me like a ton of bricks several times over, and I still have this on my shoulders. My dog died. Since then, my family has gotten two more dogs, and they're both brilliant and retarded, and absolutely gorgeous creatures. They're both extremely loving and quirky and amazing as far as pets go... And they're both very young.

Sable used to be young. But when Sable was young, I was young. When I was growing up, Sable grew up with me. When Sable died, I died.

Okay, so I've been able to be okay and live a life, but a part of my heart is missing and it's scarred over, and sometimes I can still feel the emptiness. I haven't loved anything on this earth as much as I loved, and still love, Sable. The last few moments of her life are burned into my memory with surgical precision, and they're never going away.

There's things I'll always have in my life to look back on and say that I was able to move on, and they were supposed to happen to me. My best friend left town and I had to find a new one, in sixth grade. My next door neighbor died right after his fifth birthday because he was hit by a drunk driver. My first love absolutely stomped on my heart. These things will always remain with me because I learned how to be a better person from them. I learned how to grow close to others even in the face of uncertainty. I learned to always take the keys from those who didn't understand they weren't sober enough to drive. I learned to be guarded, and love.

When Sable died, I learned that very, very few people will come into your life, be the most loyal, trustworthy friend, fight for your life and safety, never yell at you, always be willing to play with you, always lay by your side when you needed to cry, love you endlessly, be completely selfless, and make you fall in love with them with absolutely every fiber of your being - these few people will come into your life, and they'll go until their last breath protecting your heart, making sure you're okay. But these people will die.

When Sable was dying, she knew she was dying. She could feel it, but she fought to be strong, tried her hardest to not let us know until she physically couldn't even sit up anymore. The vet told us that this was typical of retrievers. Because they're so loyal, you know.

I've had some amazing friends in this life. A couple that I have absolutely nothing to complain about. But no friend as devoted to me as Sable was. And to this day, the tiniest thing will trigger my memory and it'll be back to the pain I felt the minute my dad picked her up and took her away.

Wherever you are, Sabledog, I love you, and I miss you. <3

On Semi-Dating You.

Be ridiculously cute. Invite me to play pool when I notice you playing by yourself in our dorm building. Talk about everything from music and tattoos to faith and hometowns. Make my heart flutter a little bit because it takes about 10.7 seconds for me to fall in love, every time. Say goodnight. Exchange room numbers.

Don't employ the use of the room numbers but play pool a couple more times. Laugh with me, be a little awkward around me, and don't open up to me. Then, at 2:15 in the morning when you're most drunk, invite me to play pool. Be a total, goofy, sweetheart drunk and make me laugh. Get way too excited about graduating and tell me, "I just have to hug you." Hug me, a lot. Smile widely. Take both of my hands and intertwine your fingers, and kiss me. Be confused as to why I'm kissing you back and then holding back. You don't understand, I don't want to take advantage of your drunkenness. Invite me to your room. Take my number when I say no.

Apologize profusely the next day. Ask to take me to a movie. Don't tell me your fear of demons when I say we should see Insidious. Don't realize that I'm screaming inside Keber's car that I have a date with this totally sexy man who lives in my dorm building. Don't sound impressed when I immediately tell you I just got his car up to 125mph.

Ask me out on more dates. Pay for almost everything. Invite me over. Drunkenly hit me up and be kind of a dick, but it's okay, I'm used to it. I'm used to having asshole friends. Make Chelsea angry when you can't remember her name. Pass out on my bed and hog the covers on a frequent basis. Make me angry that one time that you get trashed before our date and not be able to sit through the whole thing.

Take me out on more dates and be a total sweetheart. Make me feel wanted. Make me feel on top of the world. Text me at 3am asking me to come spend the night - and no, you're not drunk this time. You soberly want to spend the night together. Kiss me gently and make Chris - your roommate - extremely uncomfortable. Spend all morning in bed with me. Avoid the subject of our impending separation.

Drink a case of beer and a bottle of Smirnoff Raspberry Vodka with me. As we're both lit up have the hottest night of my life with me. Take me to lunch the next day. Don't show up when we're supposed to meet to say goodbye, but text me as I'm on my way to the airport with "I'm so sorry I missed you, have tons of fun! We'll meet up sometime this summer."

Tell me you miss me every night I'm in California. In fact, tell me you miss me as I'm reliving my own sleepless in Seattle moments. Make me want to write an indie love song out of your words. Get on your boat and become less and less talkative. Two weeks before my birthday, lose service and don't talk to me for a month. Talk to me sporadically before the school year starts again. Simultaneously be the thing I hold on to and the thing I put on pause and learn to be patient for all summer.

Come back for the beginning of the school year to drop off your sister & tell me you're in town for a few days. Your first night here, tell me you're gonna get shitfaced and that you'll just see me tomorrow. Have me pick you up. When I get out of the car give me a HUGE hug and say "It's so good to be seeing you right now." Be the drunken sweetheart you used to be. Come over and hang  make out with me, and as the alcohol hits you harder turn into the drunken asshole I hate. Ask me to sleep with you. Get mad when I don't.

Go outside and smoke three cigarettes. Try to convince me you're sober so I'll sleep with you. When I call you out say that it's not just that you want to get laid - it's that you want to be with me. Smirk when I say you're doing a shitty job of showing it. Piss me off. Throw up from my bed into my trash can. All of a sudden be hella congested. Say you want to go back to your hotel. Ask me to drive you.

Be at a loss as for what to do when I tell you no, I'm not driving you, I'm too mad. Ask what you're supposed to do, then. Look confused when I scream "Call a fucking cab!" Ask why I'm mad. "You'd remember if you were sober enough to remember things for more than three seconds!!" Ask me to not be mad. "Fuck you." As you're leaving, ask if you can see me tomorrow. "I don't know. Maybe. I'm too mad to think about it right now."

Now be me. Be miserable all the next day. Avoid anything that makes you happy. Not even this hella cute outfit is going to cheer you up. Hate your first day of your junior year of college. Hate your life. Hate your apartment. Try to ignore the heartstrings inside you desperately wishing that he'd call, or text, and try to save face.

Wonder how the hell you're going to get to Valdez now.