On February 20th, I lost the single most important person in my entire life. 2 days ago we did his funeral. Soon he'll be cremated, and I'll have an urn. Then... I'm supposed to take some of his ashes (a small amount) to a Guardians game on his birthday. He didn't specify his birthday when he asked. He just asked that I do it if he should ever go before me. I was thinking it wouldn't be feasible to get to a game at all this summer, but now it seems more than possible. Progressive Field has $15 standing-room tickets that include a free Beer/Pepsi. I don't plan on sticking for the entire game so... it's no biggie. I like baseball, like I like the rules and I keep up on the scores but holy hell I can't sit through an entire game. That is too long. Flickie loved it though. He'd get to a game right when the gates open; which is 2 hours prior to first pitch. Prog Field was his favorite place in Cleveland.

He was actually proud to be a Clevelander, which always humored me. A lot of Clevelander are proud of living here. I mean it was cute but I never saw the big deal. Cleveland is a major city so there's plenty to do, but it's not like it's NYC or Houston. I think he just loved the Guardians that much.

The funeral was absolute clown shoes. I won't go into why, but I was disappointed in a lot of decisions his family made, against his wishes and without consulting me. The eulogy was ...it was like the guy had one script for every funeral he had ever spoken at.

I moved in wish his parents December of 2022. Before he passed on the 20th, we were preparing to save our money so we could finally rent an overpriced apartment of our own. He started working at Walmart which got him more hours and more money per hour and I was coming off of my medical leave from my job. I went on bereavement which extended my time off work until the 15th, but now I'm just gonna quit my job.

My own mother made contact the day after everything happened. We spent a lot of time talking between then and now and I'm going to live with her... and Flickie's 3 cats. I insist on calling them that because he picked them out and he loves them very much. Of course they're my kitties too, this is in no way to diminish my role in their lives.

Anyway, I had been working on some art for Flickie. It was meant for Valentine's Day. I started it back on the 13th, but I got sick. And had it not been for my grief sickness, I'd have probably finished it days ago. I've been dizzy and thirsty ever since he passed.

I don't really know who I am without Flickie. I was with him since I was 16; 20 years total. I struggle with my identity but I felt like I truly knew myself when he was with me. I feel like very people understand me and he understands me so much more than I do. But his fursona will not die just because he did. I don't know about my fiction or anything; I may retire that, I may not. It's not like it ever truly took off, so... if I abandon it, it's not like it'll be an unfinished project.