November 28th marks two years since I lost my heart. Her name was Belle. She was a beautiful little girl with brown eyes as big as the milky way. She had fluffy white fur that was always a mess. I loved her with my whole heart as she did me. She knew exactly what I needed when I needed it. A kiss when I was feeling down, a hug just because. She was happy to sit on my lap for hours, and we would cuddle under the blankets in the cold winter nights. She was my love, part of my heart I will never get back. I buried a part of my soul the day I buried her.
When that day came, I broke. I am not sure I have ever recovered. Not sure I ever will. I see her final home every day. I tell her "hi" every time I look in her direction. I miss her the same today as I did 730 days ago. I knew her from the day she was born, on our living room floor, first born of five. She came out of the womb, her name ready to be known to the world. I was in love the first time I picked her up. We had many good years, years of love and cuddles. I remember introducing her to my best human friend. If the two would have had a chance to meet, I am sure both would have loved each other as much I loved the two of them.
Sadly old age crept up faster than I could have thought and ever imagined. I saw, in her cataract covered eyes, time slowly taking what it does. She began to move slower, but my heart and my brain were in denial until the last day. I felt her heart, it was still young. We had so much love to share still, how could I ever let it go? But when it came down to it, I couldn't let the love of my life suffer just so I could have a few more days. It wasn't fair of me to do that to her despite knowing what would happen.
The last day with her was the hardest of my life. I have lost family before, but none hurt nearly as much as it did her. So this is what it felt like to have your soul die. I gently set her on the table as the doctor came in. I still see her eyes staring into mine. I could see her soul wanted to stay and I would have kept it forever, but her body was at the end. I stared deep into those big brown eyes as she slowly slipped from my life. That little girl I had known for years went where I could not follow. I cried. I still cry and am crying right now. I buried her by myself. I dug the hole, laid her gently into the ground then laid my heart on top of her as I covered her with the damp soil.
By the time I get to see my girl again, I will have remembered and mourned her for longer than I got to love her. But it is ok. I am still not whole. As I said, I don't think I ever will be. I will always remember how she would nip at my mother's nose as part of our good night ritual. How she would tell me it was time for me to go to bed so I never stayed up too late. I will remember how she curled up inside my hoodie. How she slept on the back of the couch to get all the cool air from the fan.
I will never forget my love. I will always have a piece of me that is buried in my backyard. I will love her forever. I know that when my time on this planet comes to an end, Belle will be waiting beside Jesus to welcome me home.
