Starlight

I knew it was time. She was cuddled up on my pillow, basking under the glinting sun, the smell of laundry detergent and early summer blowing through the open window, wrapping itself around us. I reached out to pet her head, my unsteady hand knocking down several brands of cat food that were cracked open and left untouched. She blinked her hollow eyes, before rubbing her bony head against my open palm, then the crook of my neck, her dry nose running up and down my jaw. I sat down and stroked her gently, her fur glistening with my tears and sorrow, like winter frost on grass. I knew what I had to do, what was right. But her eyes, they still shimmered, infinite starlight held within those endless green worlds, so alive and pure, making me doubt myself all over again. We lay down for a moment, her shaky heartbeat resting on top of mine, completely weightless.  

After our last nap together, I took a steady breath and reached towards my phone, the screen light seeping into the darkening room. Hand hovering over the call button, I leaned into her, breathing in her sweet, thick fur, and all I felt was her pain, so immense it filled every crack in the room, swallowing me whole. Those eyes, full of starlight, kitten play, cuddles, and way too many treats stared up at me, calm and reassuring, yet wanting and desperate. I pressed the button, swallowing the tears that raced up my throat and threatened to explode from my shattering body.

 I will never forget those eyes, how they could be filled with so much agony and peace, life and death. Those eyes may never open, never look at me again, but at least I know they have finally joined the stars where they belong,