As a writer, one always looks for symbolism. We see it in movies and the trashy books we read, and of course, if we are lucky or delusional, we can see it our own lives.
My cat symbolized stability in my transient life. While I had her, i lived in four different apartments, had five different roommates, dated (seriously) three different men, went from working 70 hour weeks to having summers and weekends off. My life was in constant flux after I graduated from college, and yet Dilly was always there. She would always curl up in my lap or the crook of my arms while I slept. She would meow a hello. She never judged my crazy rants or my tears over something that probably didn't warrent tears. She was always a faithful friend and traveled with me wherever I went.
Upon her death Monday night (really early tuesday morning), I felt as though my stability had fallen out from under me. I looked in my head to the English training I had received to try and figure out what it means when a symbol ceases to exist.
Sadly my pondering needs to end while I run to the train.
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