"I love you, Carmine," I told my handsome, 18-year-old orange tabby cat as the vet gave him the injection that stopped his heart, sending him to the Rainbow Bridge. Carmine left me in the wee hours of May 26, 2023. It's the day my world began to implode.
Carmine was my soulmate, my heart cat. We spent 18 wonderful years together. His unconditional love, guidance, and comforting nature helped me recover from anorexia and self-harm. His love healed me in ways I didn't know were possible. How was I supposed to go on without him? We were two peas in a pod. As long as I had Carmine by my side, I knew everything would be okay, even in seemingly hopeless situations. How was I supposed to navigate this world without my best friend?4\
After his death, I went on with my life the best I could. I adopted a new kitten, and while Giovanni brought me and Tylan (my Siamese cat) so much joy, laughter, and comfort, I simply couldn't handle the grief I felt over Carine's loss. Instead of working through it, I shoved the grief aside. Nobody, especially my loved ones, wanted to see me sad and grieving. It was easier for everyone if I pretended Carmine's death wasn't as devastating to me as it actually was.
.jpg "Gabriel sitting on the air purifier in the bedroom.")
.jpg "Giovanni hangs out on my bed on my pajamas.")
