Daisy was a good cat.

And in the small wooden box that now holds the fragments of bones and ashes that once was Daisy, there is a packet of Silica Gel. In all caps. SILICA GEL. "DO NOT EAT." Why is that in quotations? THROW AWAY DESICCANT. I don't even know what desiccant means. I have gone to classes at a Community College for a long time, for Journalism and English and I keep realizing there are many, many, many words I do not know. Thank god for Google and the Internet, right? And Smart phones. So I can look up words I don't know really fast and seem as smart as my phone. Screw desiccant. I don't care what it means. My cat's bones are hollow and weird. And some have dark, what I assume is marrow in the them. The pieces. The pieces of what was Daisy. Is this sick? I wasn't gonna open the box, it has a sweet little lock on it, with her name on it and everything, a heart charm, and it says Daisy. But the lock wasn't locked. So like a cat, curiosity got the best of me. So I opened it. And it was a plastic bag full of, I don't know. Remnants of my childhood.

I have perfected the silent cry. I know how to cry quietly and quickly, to wipe away a tear before anyone notices. To wipe it under my makeup and keep it intact just enough so I look okay enough.

Tonight I cry audible tears. Like a movie. I have done this a few times in my life. Once I was listening to the radio, and "Do You Really Want to Hurt Me," by Culture Club came on. And, yeah. Movie tears. I was in a weird place. I promise I was sober. I cried audible tears once when I was at school. During Math class. I cried Audible tears once on my kitchen floor. I cried audible tears once in my friends driveway. Sometimes it feels good to be obnoxious and make noise and be human. All of these times, I have always been alone. So, while I am alone crying these tears, at least I feel a little less alone sharing it through these words. Tonight I am crying, because I can't understand how my cat can now just be a bag of bones and ashes. I mean, I understand, in the logical sense. But, I can't understand, you know? Life can be stupid.

Daisy was a good cat. And I'm not sure if I am supposed to leave the Silica Gel in the box. And that is making me cry too. I think she deserves better than that. So I won't eat it, and I will throw it away. I still don't know what desiccant means. And I still don't care.