There is no right way or wrong way. There is the cowards way which might be the gentler way… Maybe the better way. I could have told her he was still out there trying to find his way home. I watched her weep in the arms of neighbors.

I stood back and let them share that.

She told me, “Losing a pet for a kid is like losing family.”

I remember both. The pet grief lasts days or weeks. The losing family when you’re a kid is a sort of permanent mess.

My Daughter Zylia said at the age of 8 that she wanted a ferret more than anything else. I did not. I ended up paying $650 for him and his cage.

Weeks earlier I asked Zylia the source of the 2 bruises on her back. “I fell.” She lied. When she told me she wanted a ferret I said, “Tell me the truth about those bruises and you will get your ferret. By that time she had been living with me for 100 days and her mother had lost custody of her in court.

“Mom hit me. “

Fin arrived a few days later. He was with us almost 2 years before he walked off while I was cleaning his cage on a warm Labor Day Weekend Saturday.

We put up posters and a woman called to say that her dog attacked Fin who died on the way to the vets. The woman was weeping when she told me. Zylia was weeping when I told her.

Fin was the happiest animal I ever met. Getting out of that cage was the highlight of his day. He would bounce around the floor and play fight with Ned the cat.

I just really liked him because of what he represented to Zylia.

A life free from abuse and supported and loved for who she is.

I remember my mistakes… not like regret. Rather like jewelry in a crown of humanity.

They stand out bright and polished like some beacon of reality flashing hope for future misadventures…

“Please Host, stop being so perfect and predictable. Give us a chance too.”

The warplanes broke the silence.

The highlights of the fair.

They called it entertainment.

At Ling Ling’s distant stare.

Her gaze was in the water.

The horizon and the air.

She couldn’t see the war planes.

Just the smoke, the flame, the flair.

She found shelter for her desires. All the storms just felt so wrong.

I felt the need to hold her close. But my will was not that strong.

There were legends by the lighthouse. In the shadows they would play.

They found her there upon the rocks; all desires faded grey.

No smiling for the camera. No joy, no pearly whites.

We let her go and carried on. In the wind they flew our kites.

There are wonders and there’s whispers. The words fade in the storm.

In this world that holds her secrets. There is love both cold and warm.

At the time it seemed important. I can’t think of what it was. I was jumping up and down, saying something just because.

Guess that was before I met you. I’ve kinda settled down. Seemed so damn important, and now I guess you’re leaving town.

Now the past is in gutter, seemed so hard to find. I’m learning just to let it go. Not to pay it any mind.

The night is softly falling. There’s a quiet in those skies. Just sitting here with my own thoughts, in the distance… past goodbyes.

I was blinded by the beauty.

You were there and truth be told.

There was this chance that felt like duty.

I had the hand that wouldn’t fold.

My heart was in a flutter.

My dick was in my hand.

You were soft and hard like butter.

I was hope with nothing planned.

I can be cruel and cold.

Leave you between the death and damn.

I don’t feel like I’m that old.

Just the calendar says I am.

I’m not worried about the end that much.

I just know what I want to do.

And wasting all this precious time.

Has devided the me and the you.

August 2022 has come and gone, and what a glorious month it has been.

September 1st is anniversary of sorts now and cause for celebration…

The first milestone to celebrate here in the Mantin household is that I have been sober for 18 years…

The second thing is that my 10 year old daughter Zylia who I have sole custody of has been living with me now for 2 years and this 2nd event couldn’t happen without the first.

September 1 reminds me of what I am.

Lucky.