Sleepless

And for once, it's not because of dreams. I can't barely sleep, therefore I can't dream bad things. So, yea, I'm kind of happy about that.

But I'm not happy that Brutus isn't home yet. Big Ed is looking when he has free time. He is calling everywhere he can while I'm stuck sitting in front of a computer, doing my best not to cry. I even wore [heavy eye liner and mascara] to work yesterday so that I wouldn't cry. It almost didn't work.

This morning is day three that I have not had a little playful pounce as I passed by the bedroom door, heading to the closet to get a shirt. He's not there to crawl out from under the bed and stretch and wait impatiently at the bathroom door, just so he can sit in the window for a few minutes while I do my morning routine. And he's not here to race me down the hall and down the stairs. He almost always wins that one, but only because I can't fit through the bars to leap down to the couch.

I miss him. Terribly. And I'm not mad at anyone, it's everyone's fault he is missing, not just one person in particular. Though I do feel guilty for not checking everything before heading off to bed - drunk or not, there is no excuse for not securing the house. And I always call him up after I get up the stairs. I didn't Sunday morning. Because he was comfy behind Big Ed on the chair.

What if I had?