[31.1.25] Grief.

It’s intangible, all-encompassing and frankly, difficult to experience; regardless of how you process it.

My pet guinea pig, Coco, passed away yesterday. She was, of course, very, very old and we’d taken her to the vet a couple weeks ago. We knew it was time. But that doesn’t make it any easier.

We’ve got only one left now: Butterscotch. He’s nearly 8 years old; like a hundred-and-twenty in human years. He outlived his entire family; we often joke about his almost disconcerting longevity.

But yesterday, when she died, I didn’t cry. I felt hollow inside, but I couldn’t cry. And it bothered me to no end because my sister and mother could display that emotion and I couldn’t. I didn’t not care, obviously. What was wrong?

I’ve spent the last 24 hours processing and I’ve come to the conclusion, that I was and am grieving — just, differently. Not everyone grieves in the same way. Grieve. Such a horrible word, but it tells you more than any other word could.

It tells you that you cared.

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