That's the title of the song used in my High School leaver's video. And that was a happy occasion. But I write this blog post under a slightly less jovial tone.
August is almost less than a month away, and when that time hits, it will have been five years since my beloved pet Twig died. It seems stupid that all these years later, the memory of it still occasionally brings back the pain of happy times, and the night I found out.
I cleared my room yesterday - throwing out old notes, dusting down ornaments, and tidying up my windowsill, where I keep a multitude of things. Amongst these sits the urn containing my cat's ashes. For five years it's sat there on it's pale wicker coaster, a simple yet solid terracotta urn. This is what reminded me that it's been an awful long time. I always say to myself, every year, that on the anniversary of his death, I'll scatter them. But that urn remains there on the window ledge. I stand by what I say. I will scatter them one day. I think now, however, it's still too soon. Perhaps I have to leave Holme village myself before I bring myself to leave him in his final, final resting place. I wouldn't want to take him anywhere away from his home. One day, though. One day.
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