Stricken

Today I was going to write this excessively puke-inducing post listing all the things I adore about my sweetie.  Seriously.  I’ve been making bullet points in my head all week long, but I just can’t do that right now. 

It was never going to be a great day, what with getting up at 4:50am to take CSP to the airport, and having to say goodbye to him for a week, but then getting stuck in my room, blind and desperately needing to pee, due to the door sticking, and only some serious MacGyvering got my ass out of there (Wikus was prepared to come to my rescue, and only made fun of me a tiny bit by asking it we were in some sitcom).  Things were a bit better for awhile—it’s hard to have a bad time with Wikus and Nauticalina (and her little sister) hamming it up every few seconds.  Especially in Hobby Lobby.  There was large corn!  Afterward we were driving to Torchy’s Tacos, and then it happened.  No one in the car saw it but me, which is such a relief.  A large black dog came from nowhere, running with his tongue out, happily sprinting, and just went for it.  He was in front of me, but nowhere near me, so he made it through two lanes of traffic, and I’m shrieking and honking and slamming on my brakes for nothing, because he was already past me, and I watched him buckle under the tires of a white SUV.  There was nothing that poor driver could have done.  Nothing.  Everyone in the car missed it, so they had no idea why I was screaming and crying and just yelling unintelligible words.  Nauticalina had me pull over, and she held me while I just cried like I haven’t cried since Whoopis died.  I fear I’m  never going to get that image out of my head.  This is the sort of thing that absolutely breaks me.  I can’t even imagine how I would be right now if I was the driver of that white SUV.  I really don’t know.