Getting Rox inked on me

Most tatts are forever (I say most because you can have them removed lol).

I’m aware that I’m an intense person with big feelings. This awareness to avoidant attachment style pipeline should be as expected. I avoid letting myself develop big feelings for anyone or anything that seems impermanent.

I think it’s pretty obvious by now that I’m someone who would not let go of anyone or anything I’ve gotten attached to. And while I logically know that this breeds into the pain and suffering I hopefully grown around – it can be too much for anyone.

Early on, I decided that I would only ever get inked when I’m happy. So that my skin has happy memories to wrap all the grief I hold. This is also why I intentionally had them done in places in my body that are usually covered by clothes.

I’m very open with my pain. But the happiness that I cherish are not for everyone’s consumption. Through the years, I’ve gotten more selective with who I share my joy with. And most of them are the ones who shared my burdens.

But this time around, I had Rox on my forearm. The process itself wasn’t too bad or painful, and as usual, I never shed a tear. But the end result of Rox’s portrait on my arm had me crying all the way home. There she is. Somewhere I can constantly see. Somewhere anyone can see. And I may not be at my happiest when I had it done, but Rox is a treasure trove of core memories of my life.

It’s been almost a month since she died. It feels like I’ve aged a lot since.

I think it’s time to love again

I have to admit that the past few years, I have been very protective of my heart. Because I’m terrified of losing someone I love.

Rox has been gone for almost a week now and … I don’t know what to feel. I feel lost, like there’s a gaping hole that’s been carved off me that nothing can fill.

I’m packing my bags to go on a trip again. My reaction to loss has always been to escape. Especially because Rox was a huge part of my definition of home. Being here feels suffocating. She used to boop her nose against my face to wake me up. She’d knock on my door to be let in. I don’t use the expensive rug I bought for my room because she would shed on it so badly, I got tired of having to vacuum it consistently. I have to remember to feed her on time. She’s the first one I groggily greet good morning, and the one I say good night to before going to bed. Every single inch of this house has a memory of Rox. And I’m drowning in them, I’m struggling just to breathe.

But I also don’t want to leave the house. Coming home without her excited sounds of pitter-pattering welcoming me back is a major reminder that she’s gone. Truly gone, never to come back. And I don’t feel ready to let her go.

There was this quote that I read that “everything I’ve had to let go of has claw marks on it”. And the thing is, anyone and anything I’ve loved, I grab on to tightly as if my life depended on it. They have to fight back and hurt me enough to ever make me loosen my grasp, to pry off my bloody fingers one by one. I will not let go unless it’s the kindest thing for you and I. Rox never hurt me, and while I know that no one lives forever, I just never expected to have to let her go just like that. An hour before she passed, I was still sleeping beside her. And suddenly I got woken up because she was gone. In a snap, in a moment. Suddenly she’s gone. We’ll never have what we had again. No boops. No belly rubs. No video calls when I’m away. No buying chicken exclusively for her consumption. Nothing. Just … gone.

In the aftermath of everything, I’m reminded that nothing ever lasts. There is no point in protecting my heart. Everyone and everything you love will eventually die someday. Maybe I just need to let love happen and then, when the time comes, let it go.

But maybe not today. Nor tomorrow. Or anytime in the near future. Right now, every single day feels like being stabbed repeatedly through the chest. Everything’s numbing and painful and I’ve been rotting in bed, still trying to make sense of it all.

Rox. I hope in another lifetime, your soul finds mine again, and in that universe, I have the blessing to be your biological mom.


Roxee in my bed. This photo was from when she was sick and all she wanted was to lie down on my bed and even used my pillows. She’s normally obedient and follows whatever I tell her to do (although I can’t say that she does for anyone else) but dogs act differently when they’re sick, so she wouldn’t budge. Loko nga yan, kasi galit na ako dahil nilalawayan niya yung unan ko kaya sinisigawan ko na siya at ang ginawa niya ay magkunwaring tulog. Nung kunwaring aalis na ako, dumilat ulit siya, pero nung nakita niya akong lumapit, bigla nanaman pumikit.

I reprimanded Roxee for using my pillows. She walked away, got her pillow (the green one) from her bed on the first floor and went upstairs with it. Dahil ayaw ko na siya papasukin sa room ko, dun na lang siya sa sofa. She was there for two days and only ever goes down to eat, see me off and welcome me home. Wish my little baby gets well soon!

Why Roxee is the best

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Meet my baby!

You know why they say that dogs are man’s best friend? They come into your life, comfort you by being warm and fuzzy when you’re down and could stay much more loyal to you than most of the people you know. When I picked up Roxee, I never really imagined that a year later, she […]