Nembutal J. Herold
Cochran. My love. My lovey bear, my boo, my boo-bear, my pooh-bear. Grampus, Grumpus, Nambu, Bamboo, Bimboo, Nambly-boo, fat boy, Monster. International Badass. Nembu.
How do I say goodbye to my heart? To my love? My big strong man?
Fourteen and a half years is a long time to love somebody, but I’ll be damned if you didn’t make me do it. You chose me at just the right time, and I thank you for it. I thank you for your friendship, your love, and your devotion – especially on those days I didn’t deserve it.
You’ve been my anchor – when I was cast alone at sea, struggling to find my footing – you were there with a solid body wedged up against mine and a nice thick ruff to sob into.
You’ve been my touchstone; a constant – stability and focus. A home for my worries and a home for my joys.
You’ve been an endless sense of amusement with your monstering around and your little nudges. Watching your range of moods – from derpy through 50 shades of emo and on to seriously not amused – has always brought light to my day.
Always, always, you’ve been my heart.
You may have been an aloof (and at times a complete asshole) of a fuzzy roommate, but that was just part of your charm. My sad clown. The most emo boy around. The dog that thinks he’s (the very best) people.
I’ll miss your big fat face. And the snuggles I forced you to take. And the kisses I generally had to beg for. Hell, I’ll even miss the times you refused to talk to me because I dared inflict the indignity of a bath upon your delicate person (dogson?).
I don’t know what this Nembu-sized hole is going to look like going forward, but I know it’ll suck. Also, I know I’ve made the right decision – the only decision – to save you from having increasingly shittier last days. That doesn’t make today any easier, though. Feeding you breakfast pancakes and lunch burgers helped.
So today I say goodbye to my love – and continue along.
I love you, big man. Always will.
Gastography 