Some people may be tired of reading about this, but oh, whatever.
It's been ten weeks now. 70 days. And I've been thinking quite a bit in the past one or two weeks... Mostly, I was just getting one thing back in my mind: just where the hell did all that time go to? Ten weeks, it's easy said, but that's actually over two months. And it's even more actually not really a short time either. Yet it felt like the days rushed right past me, one after another, and it almost seems scary to me, seeing how quickly time passes by, how quickly I fall back into ever the same routines day by day. Even moreso when I just look at, in particular how quickly time ran past when looking at the end of my cat. But then again - I've had her around me for 12 years. Probably that's also why, for one, it seems so unnatural every day that she's not here anymore aswell as the days passing by.
I'm also thinking that it's mostly thoguh that I'm just still having trouble to let go of her. I mean, sure, what happened was final and there's absolutely nothing I can do to change it - obviously. I CAN only move on, and I have to aswell, since time won't stop. But then again, yes, I somehow really need to let go. The only reason I'm still at my parents' home (also, two of my brothers aswell) was my cat, when I look at it in retrospective. Ironically, now I don't feel like going away because of her, since the mere location is the only physical thing that still ties me to her.

I don't know, I'm just randomly rambling about. Felt like typing something down.

Bye~