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Twelve years, and not a day went by when I didn't touch you. When we were both much younger, you used to sleep beside me and keep me warm. Now you're always outside, and your days are numbered. I know its probably better this way, I know you'll be in less pain, but I can't bring myself to let go of you yet. I'm only sixteen. You're only twelve. I remember back when we were still growing up, and I would tell you about the future. I told you that when I moved out, you would come, too, because I knew you'd die without me. I can see now that that'll never happen.
I'm going to miss you a lot. Even the days you made me madder than hell. I'm going to miss those the most. But I'm going to remember you. I'm going to remember the way your eyes always sought mine and the way you always smiled. I'm going to remember the way you protected me.
Twelve years, and you were so full of life. Now you're so cold, shaking all the time. I tried to cover you with my own body, but you were so proud, and all I could think about was the next time I would hold you like that, in the embrace of death.
When spring comes, Dad says we'll get a new puppy. But he won't be like you. I can't live without you. I can't live knowing that you won't be at home waiting for me.
So for now, I'll just sit around, listening to number nine on Stabbing Westward's "Darkest Days" CD. It really does hurt to lose the one you love.
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