Dearest Aika,

You and I know that I am not known as a caring person.

I tend to be robotic in my ways, and even though my mom has the hugest of hearts and tends to give way too much love than people deserve, this particular egg that she produced 30-some years ago captured none of that in her DNA.

Distant and cold

That is why I never really had a best friend, that is, before you.
And what little group of friends that I have, only see a portion of me because I am too scared to be vulnerable with anyone. Even my husband, who I love dearly and is only one of three things that can truly discombobulate my world can attest to the fact that I am, more often than not, so unsympathetic and distant that he tends to turn to his friends when he needs a human being to talk to.

He also thinks that if I get super powers I will become the next but I think that is more due to the fact that I am also a cutthroat b!tch.

But I digress.

And then, 8 years ago, you came into my life.

Aika

You have always been there for me and I'd like to think I've been there for you in as much as my limited, detached self can possibly be. You have loved me unconditionally amidst everything, even in my worst of times -- when I was deeply depressed for two months straight and could barely pass as a being with a soul.

And now that you've left, I don't think I will ever get over how painful it is that my best friend is no longer by my side.

My bestie

It has been more than a month since you've gone. I've been acting like a human being on the outside because adulthood had to take over but the pain remains and sometimes bubbles up so hard that I have to stop for a few minutes before I can function again.

Know that I will miss you forever and:

Your innocent trust that all human beings are good, thereby being the worst guard dog of all time. 

Those big doe eyes which you utilize to your advantage every time you want to eat whatever anyone in front of  you is about to eat. 

How you always know when I am not in a good place and you try to comfort me by licking my arm because you know I don't like it when you lick my face. 

The way you sit on my head when you try to weasel your way in for a snuggle. 

All the times that you wiggle out of my husband's hug when I called you. 

Your conversations with thunder -- the only time you ever bark.

And, how lovingly you maintained eye contact with us, even as we shared your last few hours. 

Potpot, I know you are now in dog heaven now, and you are in a better place, but d@mn, every day is still a struggle. Every single day still hurts. Maybe not as much, maybe not as evident, but it still does. 

P.S. I love you, boo, forever and ever and ever and ever.