Alone

 It's Election Day 2020. Undoubtedly, one of the most historic days I will live through. (One of many, as it's turning out.) For me, this Tuesday has been the second of a tough couple of days that have reminded me of how frail my mental and emotional states are right now.

Over the weekend, my ex-fiancée rescued a one-month-old kitten found by a friend and her kids. They named her Prudence, after: Charmed, the Beatles song "Dear Prudence", and The Great British Bake-Off's Pru[denc]e Leith. 

I saw this little furball Sunday night while I stopped by to visit my little girl and do laundry. It was ridiculously CUTE. Pru was so tiny in my arms and so light to hold. All this little baby wanted was to snuggle with her new humans. Especially heartmelting was seeing my daughter bond with her new friend. 

The next morning, I checked in on Pru and my ex had to take her to the vet due to some gastrointestinal issues that had happened through the night and had become very lethargic. Within an hour, the vet had called her to say little Pru had died. 

This baby hadn't been in our lives but a day and our hearts were pulverized. As I dwelled on it more, my heart sunk deeper and deeper into despair.

Whereas the night before I felt a sense of freeness that both my household and my ex's household were thriving after the split, this optimism had now suffered a fate parallel to little Pru. Both my former partner and my baby girl were hurting over the loss of this beautiful cat and I felt I should have been there to offer comfort to them. At the same time, I had trouble dealing with the loss of such innocence and such affection as little Pru had shown us. The world had, once again, reminded us of its occasional cruelty.  

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