And I feel like a terrible person, because the whole missing him thing hasn't settled in, yet. Maybe it never will...

I mean, I'll tear up or even burst out sobbing with snot leaking out everywhere and the whole shebang, but that's only when I think about him not being there for all that little things.

Cuddling on the couch early in the mornings when I'm too tired to get up and moving; his empty bowl, sitting right there, and remembering how his collar clinked on the pan we had to put it in; always looking down to make sure I'm not going to walk into him; saving all the grocery bags to pick up his poop; walking into a room and expecting him to be there, his whole butt wagging and his ears flopping back; that soft spot around his shoulder where your hand automatically went to if you held him; carrying him around like a baby on my hip, and the way his head would flip around to see everything, no matter how many fake eyeballs he had...

I feel like I should burst out crying every time I talk about him, and I'm afraid that I seem cold or callous or insensitive when I don't.

I just miss having some tiny warm little body to hold and comfort and protect and love and mindlessly pet.

I don't like this being alone thing...