There is only love for you in my heart. As there ever was. 

I remember how we found you, so small and frightened, as we chased you around the used book store parking lot, so we could make sure you were ok. 

You could almost fit in my palm; I was 4, and you were just as young.

We took you to the vets that day. You were healthy! I still thank God for that; it gave me more time to persuade Mom to let us keep you. Monday, she said, Monday we’ll take him to the Humane Society. I don’t want a cat, right now.

Monday  never came for you. 

We grew up together, me and you. You were fonder of me than the others, right from the start. I’d carry you around in my toy buggy and dress you up in my clothes.    

The next year, I left you to go to school during the days. I remember how you’d welcome me as I came home. We’d sit and watch So Weird together as I reiterated to you what happened during my day. You were a true listener, and I always felt like you understood. 

You were sapient, in your demeanor, much the kin to myself. We were, the both of us, old souls, slipping into youthful rollicks only every so often. 

I saw it in you more; the way you’d suddenly be overcome with giddiness, and trounce around my room with a toy mouse, or how olives made you roll around on the floor like you were possessed by its scent.  

I remember the day I gave you a marshmallow, after having tried to feed you so many other tidbits of my meals, and how you enjoyed it so much; you begged for another. I knew then, my boy had a sweet tooth, just like me. Since then we shared little licks of frostings and cookie crumbs. But more than that, we shared the undying affection and companionship of kindred spirits; that’s what we were, kindred spirits, brought together for a reason. 

I remember how you’d sit on my bed with me as I cried myself to sleep. I remember how you’d wait for me by the stairs so I’d patiently sit by you as you ate. You didn’t like eating alone, neither, I think, do I. 

I remember how hard it was leaving you, that first time, when I was hospitalized. I remember the happiness I felt at returning home to you. You never made me feel anything but welcome.

I remember how you’d sit on my keyboard, making sure my attention was all yours. You’d press on the keys and send my computer into disarray.  I needed the distraction, sometimes. And yours was always a welcome one. 

You were there for me my first day of school, and my last. I planned on taking you with me the first day I went to college, and on still, to the first day I moved into my own home. Now you won’t be there physically, but I know you’ll be beside me, always, in spirit. 

I feel silly, somehow, allowing myself to be so emotional. But you are one of the most important people in my life. You were there for me, always; just listening, just nodding in approval of my ludicrous ideas and childhood fancies. And even now, as I am older, my trivial problems, and embarrassing thoughts, that I would never be able to share with another. 

You are the first love I found. I had loved before, but that love I had always known. Yours was special, because I was able to watch it grow between us. When I felt like I’d never share that bond with anyone else, it was enough that I had you. 

I wish these past weeks, I had paid more attention to you. I wish I had been there, somehow, and prevented what happened to you sweet boy. I know I made you feel abandoned in my preoccupation in my selfishness… I abandoned you just like I abandoned so many others in my life. You needed me, and I wasn’t there.

I’m so sorry Pumpkin. I don’t expect forgiveness. But I need to make sure you know. I’m sorry. 

I know that heaven waits for you with wide open arms. You deserve nothing less than to be eternally at peace.