Lonely

It's been nearly a week without him. And it still doesn't feel real, a part of me still expects him to be waiting for me at the gate when I get home, or snoring in the corner of the bedroom. He's always just been there. And I don't know how to adjust to being without him. When I'm out it seems easier, he wouldn't normally be there anyway, but every time I walk through the gate and he's not there, it's like the wound opens anew. 

I don't want to have to adjust to being without him. It's not fair and it shouldn't have been his time. 

I'm not coping with this. And all I can do is blame myself. This was my decision, this was my choice. No one else made the final call. I don't know how to forgive myself for that. I just keep thinking I could've asked to borrow the money or put it on my credit card. Maybe he would've healed quickly. 

And the worst part is, if I'd taken him to the vets an hour earlier, maybe they could've done the decompression and he would never have needed surgery. 

I know this is all a part of owning pets but how do you forgive yourself after you've decided whether something lives or dies. 

I just miss him so much.