On the last day of April, my worst nightmare came true. I woke up from my nap to find that my best friend of 15 years had passed away from Carbon Monoxide poisoning. Dinah had been by my side since I was four years old. Losing her was one of the most devastating things that has ever happened to me. As a writer, the evening she died, I sat at my computer and began typing. My fingers disconnected from the rest of me and I poured out words, about 4,500 of them. I am going to share some excerpts from my ramblings with you today. This was all written before we found out how she died. Here are some of my purest emotions. Let’s go.

“The house is acting the same, even though she is gone.”

“Her bed is no longer in my room like it was. It’s sitting right next to me, because we just brought it in from the car.”

“She still felt like her, but something was missing.”

“Her fur is still all over the house. I don’t think it’ll ever be gone. There’s two pieces of it on my screen right now and I can’t bring myself to brush them off.”

“I don’t know if I can go into my bedroom.”

“I can’t get the image of her face out of my mind.”

“I figured the day she died, I’d die too. I feel like I’m dead, but my fingers are still moving and I’m still breathing.”

“I’ve never been able to cry in front of other people. Even family, I hide it. Not today.”

“I still remember the day she was given to me. Dad brought out this tiny, fluffy, crazy puppy. She was black and white, and she would not stop moving.”

“Why (the name) Dinah? The cat from Alice in Wonderland. No, not the cat that everyone remembers. Alice’s cat, who makes a cameo in the opening scene.”

“She was too crazy to pet. But I adored her anyway.”

“Then there was the milkshake incident… Milkshake was all over the floor, my hair, my mom’s shirt. I’m sure Dinah was in heaven then.”

“But she wasn’t in heaven then, because she’s in heaven now.”

“Dinah always wanted to follow my friends and I downstairs. I feel like I should regret kicking her out, and I kind of do, but she would’ve been in the way of our stupid games.”

“Back then, I didn’t know what death was, or grieving, or the fact that she would someday die and that I should spend time with her.”

“Don’t try to tell me that ‘heaven needed another angel’ or ‘everything happens for a reason.’ I don’t give a damn.”

“I finally made an Instagram in December of 2014. One of my first posts was one of my dog. Nearly every week since, there has been a Dinah appreciation post. I made one this morning. Then she died.”

“It was her 12th or 13th birthday when I realized how old she’d gotten… I got out my camera and began recording videos of her and taking endless pictures.

“I was sick at the time, so I had no school or friends to worry about. It was just doctors appointments and my dog. That’s when we got so close.”

“She’d come up to me and lick my leg when my pain was acting up. She’d slink over and shove herself underneath my arm when I was panic attacking.”

“I truly believed that she was the sibling I never had. And now I’m an only child again.”

“Mom and I could see her getting sick.

“She was losing weight. That was the part I hated the most. I could see her whole ribcage and her pelvic bones when she slowly walked by.”

“Now that she’s in heaven, I like to think she’s as fat as she wants to be.”

“Everyone claimed to hate her, but loved her.”

“I like to think she’s up in heaven right now, in the corner of my dad’s faded old green recliner, with his worn hands petting her. I know he’s taking care of her.”

“I don’t know how I am going to function without her. I’ve never had to.”

“I’m surprised I’m even able to type this right now. Mentally, I am so worn and broken.”

“My best friend, my sister, my puppy, my baby just died.”

“I’m afraid to end this venting paper because when I stop, I come back down to the reality that I’m in a house without my dog, and she’s not coming back.”

“I hate that I have to sleep in that bed again. I hate that I have to lay my head on the pillow that her head was touching when she died.”

“But at the same time, I want to lay there forever and hold her purple pillow and never leave.”

“It’s bothering me that her lifeless body is just laying in the vet’s office. No one is there to pet her.”

“Even though she can’t feel it, because she’s dead, I still feel like someone should hold her paw until her paw is turned to ash.”

“I want to bury her with some of the toys that she liked, but I also want to keep those for myself. I feel like that may be selfish, but what are her ashes gonna do with her toys?”

“I also feel selfish because I keep talking about myself, while mom is sitting across the room with with an occasional tear run down her cheek. She’s suffering as much as I am, yet all I can focus on is my pain.”

“I can’t stop typing. I will cry. And I’m tired of crying.”

“I need to eat, but I don’t want to eat. I need to sleep, but she died in my bed. Everything is so confusing.”

“All I know is that I’ll never be able to pet her soft head again, or gently touch her ear to make it twitch.”

“No more belly rubs, even though she hasn’t been up for one of those for months.”

“No more having to crawl out of bed to let her out of my room in the middle of the night. That was always annoying, but right now, I wish she was here to be annoying.”

“National Sibling Day was a few weeks ago, and I posted a photo of her. She was my sibling.”

“A huge part of me is gone. And I don’t know if I’ll ever feel okay again.”

“I knew this day would come, and I figured I’d go insane. I didn’t think I’d shut down.”

“I already miss her so much and it’s only been seven hours. It’s only going to get worse, right? How can it get worse?”

“I need my puppy to come cuddle up next to me and lick me to let me know that everything will be okay. She’s not gonna come over and do that.”

“My dog is dead. And I feel dead. But I’m not. And I hope this feeling goes away soon, because I can’t do this.”

“We grew up together. She was there when my Dad died. She was there when I was ruthlessly bullied. I came home nearly every day in tears, but she ran up to me with a smile.”

“She was my sister. You need a sister. Everyone needs a sister. Mine just happened to be a dog.”

“I need her, mom needs her, we all need her.”

“Those dog hairs are still on the screen and I can’t brush them away.”

“Yeah, dogs are loyal to their owners, but Dinah wasn’t just a dog and I wasn’t just an owner. We were so strongly bonded.”

“I’m going to stop typing now. I need to go cry. I’m going to cuddle her dog bed and cry myself to sleep. I have a feeling that’s how my life will be for a long time.”

Well, there you go. The most emotional piece of myself has been thrown out to you. If you read the whole thing, I applaud you. If you can relate, I am mentally hugging you. If you think I’m crazy, I agree. If you got up to hug your pet, I thank you—now go give them another hug for me.