Goofy is gone.

Goofy is gone. I left him with friends when I went home this weekend. I should have known. I should have coached them better. I should have taken him with me. I should have done something. Instead, I left him – alone and helpless. That is how well I take care of something I love. No one should ever entrust me with something of their own – they’ll never see it again.

I keep coming to the room hoping to see him - his stupid dolphin act once more. To see him push away his food just like I do mine. To tell mum and dad what he was upto that day. But of course, I don’t. He’s gone. There’s an empty place on the floor beneath the window where we put him. I avoid looking there now.

He was just a stupid little fish, I know. A stupid and moody and crazy and God, so adorable one at that. I didn’t even like fish. But I loved this one, you know. For those ten days, because of him, I was less alone.

I already know this is going to stay with me for a long while yet. I’m not getting a pet again. I don’t deserve to. I'm sorry Goofball. 


More than you'll ever know.