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Her name is “Mhee”. She is a black, chubby, cheerful cat. Whenever we call her name, she always responds with a meow. No matter where she is in the house, if we call her, she comes to us immediately. Until last month, when we discovered cancer in her.
And last night, I dreamt of a cat. I played with it, stroking its belly without it biting. We rubbed our faces together until I woke up for work.
At 10 AM, my sister messaged that Mhee might not survive the day. Caught up in urgent work, I chose working instead of going back to her.
Until 3:50 PM when she told me Mhee had passed. At that moment, the world seemed to stop. I couldn't focus on work, wonder why. “what have I done” . regretting not saying a final goodbye. Now, I blame myself, feeling like I've become the adult I despise—choosing work over the ones I love.
And right now (01:29 am) I’m still working.
I hated myself even more now.
TL;DR : my cat is dying and I chose work over saying a final goodbye to my cat. And now I hate myself
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