Today was sad.

Pete is missing, and by now he is probably not coming back. My Pete. I feel a little silly crying over a cat, but I also feel completely justified. I chose him, and he loved me. He didn’t love Lindsey, not Merritt, not Daddy; he just loved Momma and me. He was mine. And now he is gone. And I am so sad.

He would fall asleep in my lap, sit on the edge of my bathtub, wait outside my bedroom when the door was closed, he loved me.

I don’t want to go home to Spring. It will be strange not to see his bowl under the hutch, not to cuddle with him on the furniture Momma forbids him to sit on, not to wake up to his little insistent voice. I don’t want to go home. It will just be sad. I can’t go back. Not yet.

I don’t want my family to get another cat. Pete was MY cat, and now I don’t live there anymore. If they get a cat, it won’t be mine. It will be theirs. That just wouldn’t be right.

I am trying really hard not to blame my family. I know that they are not to blame, but all of the “what if”s keep coming to mind. What if they let me bring him to College Station? What if they hadn’t gone out of town? What if someone stole him? What if he had worn a collar? What if they put up signs to try and find him?

I feel so pathetic, like a little child, to be so upset over this. But I am sad, so, so sad.

I cried at school, I cried in the car, I cried when I got home, and I am still crying.

I feel like I will have no closure. Nothing about my life here in College Station is different. I began mourning today, but these feeling will all happen again when I go home and things are different.

If you don’t love a pet, sorry. I know you think I am super lame right now. And that’s okay. I will think you are lame when you mourn over fantasy football or American Idol. You can think I am lame when I mourn over Pete or Survivor.