My turtle died and it's the saddest goddamn thing in the world because that was no fucking life for a turtle, they should have space and freedom and fuck, we used to have two but the other one passed away like five years ago and she was just so lonely and depressed and she never ate, and some days I would just sit down on the floor and stare at her, thinking about how much worse her life must be compared to mine, feeling so fucking sorry for her, and now she's dead, and I know I should be thinkin' it's about damn time and she's better off, but I just feel so sorry and sad. Her life was fucking tragic. Most days I just didn't even think about her because it always made me sad. I had her for eleven fucking years and I don't even have a picture of her. How fucking sad is that? And now she's.. gone. And we can't even fucking bury her because it's too fucking cold outside.
Daddy told me and I went downstairs and just sat on the floor for the longest time staring at her dead body. Then I threw up and I cried and cried and then proceeded to drink half a bottle of wine on an empty stomach, and I feel like fucking shit.
I'm so sorry, Lollipop. I'm so fucking sorry. Rest in peace.