I broke down Wednesday night. My usual audition anxiety seems to have undone everything I'd done to move forward. That night, I felt hollow. It felt as though my heart had been cleaned out like a pumpkin on Halloween. And it hurt. It hurt so badly. My fingers were itching to go outside and uncover him, because I was having such a hard time believing this was my existance now. It fucking hurts. I haven't felt this sort of hurt before, and I can't stand it. It probably seems so silly; I've lost relatives before and not hurt this badly. But my relatives never really directly effected my every day life. I feel like half of me is missing without having him trailing my every step and laying at my feet. I can't stand how quiet and lonely things are right now. I can't stand it at all. It just makes his passing stand out all the more.

I keep going over this story I read in an old Chicken Soup book in hopes that it will make me feel better. A couple had to put their dog to sleep and they were so worried about how their son would take the news. Once it was done, they sat in the office and talked with the vet, wondering aloud about why pets had to have such short life spans. The little boy pipes up saying he knows the answer. He said God put everyone on Earth to learn how to love. Dogs already know how to do that, so they don't have to stay as long. There's an old column by Ann Landers (I think. I could be wrong) told as a narrative. The person recalls their life with their dog, all frustrations and all the fun, because it has come time to put the poor thing out of it's misery. It ends with the dog giving the owner a look of gratitude for their care, and in their mind, the owner responds "No, thank you for taking care of me." It's funny how that works, isn't it? Everything we do for our pets seems to pale in comparison for what they do for us.

I haven't been sleeping. I'll sleep about two hours and then be done. It's not healthy, I know, but there's not much help for it. With how much this hurts, I feel like I am doing this whole grieving thing wrong. But there really is no right or wrong, is there? I've always felt that emotions like grief are far more powerful than happiness and it's ilk. The happy emotions, they do leave their mark on a person, but they are nothing compared to the scars that grief can leave. Happiness leaves bruises. When it first starts, it's vivid and colorful, but slowly that color begins to fade. Oh, you remember you felt that and what that looked like, but the mark isn't there. Grief seems to dig deep into your skin, leaving large, ugly scars. Over time, those scars become less obvious and less telling, but they are always there.

Tonight while we were watching Royal Pains on USA, there was a ship sailing in the background. I lost all focus on what was happening on the show and was drawn to the ship. The name of the ship? TANGO. I started crying. I cried, and I cried. And I'm crying now. I had a ticket to go see a few of the MST3K guys riff an old Ed Wood movie on the big screen. I've had the ticket for weeks. And I didn't go. I couldn't go. I just...didn't really care. As obsessed with them as I am, that was huge.

It's going to get better. I'm not wallowing, but I'm not bottling it up either. I've never been good at that whole containing your emotions thing. It won't hurt this bad forever, but I know I'm going to miss him always. I just hope and I pray that my parents will relent and let me get another dog. If it means I'm going to have to move out, then fine, whatever, I'll save up and move out. But I need to eventually get another dog. I know it will make this process a lot easier. I couldn't handle it right now. Just the thought makes me feel like I'm giving Tango the boot. My chest gets tight thinking about it. But in a few months, when the scar has faded a bit, I'll be ready.

This all probably seems really pathetic, doesn't it? I know there are worse things that can happen in a life. But right now, at this moment,