“Today I found your hair.
It stuck to my leg when it brushed up against my blanket.
The green and gold one I haven’t washed in over a year.
Yeah, I know, that’s gross.
I should wash it.
I know I should.
Eventually, I will,
But right now I can’t.
I can’t because it was the last blanket you slept on, while you slept next to me in my bed.
You never dared to sleep on anyone else’s bed but mine.
And when you did, you slept right against my back.
I saw the hair for a second and wondered whose it could be.
It couldn’t be the cat’s, it’s too curly.
It couldn’t be a friend’s, it’s too short.
It can’t be anyone in the family’s, we are all brunettes.
So it had to be yours.
I can’t believe it is.
Your hair used to cover e v e r y t h i n g.
Even the couches!
You weren’t supposed to be on them,
But come on,
Who could say no to you?
Especially when one would fall asleep on the couch, and you’d jump up to join.
I was robbed.
I only got three years with you.
It wasn’t enough.
You don’t have a shirt I can keep forever.
You don’t have a ring.
Only a collar,
Or a leash.
It’s weird to lay on your bed.
It’s weird to hold a toy with no dog to use it.
It’s not right.
I’m not ready to get a new dog.
I’m not ready to pretend like you didn’t exist.
I’m not ready to act like I’m okay with you gone.
I don’t know when I’ll be.
I am not going to wash the blanket.
No matter how gross that is.”
This story was submitted to Love What Matters by Irini Orihuela. Submit your own story here and be sure to subscribe to our free email newsletter for our best stories, and YouTube for our best videos.
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