March 24, 2008

A Splinched Life

Daemon torn away, I haven't much had the desire to read these last two weeks. I also haven't been able to rid my head of the boy in Lyra's world of Philip Pullman's His Dark Materials who held onto a dead fish for dear life. So suddenly I lost such a dear one to me as my greatest companion, who was fit as could possibly be. He was everything to me. I was left feeling I could do nothing that I did before. Life moves, though, and all of me was forced to as well but for reading without him beside me.

I cannot imagine reading without his blondish-orange fur in arms reach where I can pet and stroke him as I read. Or the fact that his nose will never again rub my wrists while he tried to steer my attention away from whatever book I would be reading. No more purrs or smiles of satisfaction as I breaked from reading and rubbed his ears. No more walking with him over my shoulder through the house, or of him turning up from no where to sit on my lap when I had been feeling sad.

He will not test any new bookshelves nor jump around in them with his sister who is so lonely without him. Always they had been a set to mind, like ying and yang perhaps. There could never be one without the other. No Aloft without Aloof. They were a pair, and how could one be complete without the other? The balance would not exist. Aloft is feeling the splinching of her other half.

Half of me is also missing these last couple weeks and I won't get it back. Nothing can change it, though, so I either have to read and probably sob doing so for the first few attempts or not read at all. I miss books, I really do. Nothing like I miss him, of course.

I couldn't make sense of it but I see there are differnces, though why I had to loose him for those differences are so very nastily cruel. I am not a religious person, but I feel the need to scream and kick and shout and beat the damn freaking you-know-what out of someone. I want my baby back. He is gone, forever. Why did this have to happen?!

Still struggling to care enough to turn the front cover of a book and read.