i know this post doesnt belong here, on a website about depression and suicide, but i really need to do something other than cry about it.
Nixon was my cat since i was born, when i lived in a different state. I remember him scratching me when i petted him in the eyes when i was about three. I remember him scratching me when my parents were arguing. I remember falling asleep during breakfast and nixon rubbed my hand which was hanging down. he used to rub against my grandmas hand while we ate and she would say “no i wont give you food.” Mostly I […]