I lost a friend

I lost a tiny little thing. He was barely two inches long and maybe a couple of ounces-- weird-looking, 10 legged with the brightest blue carapace you could ever see. He was awkward, scared, unusual looking, shy... and I fell in love. It was such a new experience to love something so far from human, something so foreign, so distant. I mean, we were separated by a glass box at all times, but somehow we managed to connect so well and even understood each other's cues. I got him all kinds of things to make his environment special and I’d like to believe that, as a way to thank me, he began to trust and interact more with me. For that, I will always be grateful.

I’m here to celebrate you and us, even though I’ll be the first to say that it’s strange to be this affected by the passing of a little crustacean-- but hey, here I am and I’m not ashamed to tell you that I’ve cried at least 20 times since discovering his little, motionless body yesterday.

Rest in peace, my sweet little Blue angel. I will remember you every day when I say good morning to everyone. I will remember you with the warm words of those who supported me during these days. I will remember your big, happy eyes, your playfulness, your claws in the air when you saw me coming, the goodnight pea I used to give you, and the way you allowed me to get close to you, even though you were scared of everything. I’m sorry if I failed you, my boy. Please know I will always remember and love you, and that I’ll adore the memories of all these aforementioned things--but especially every time I listen to the song Blue Christmas. I couldn’t ask for a better way to remember you. I hope you are slow dancing to it somewhere, baby. I’ll be here singing it for you.

PS: I never told you but I hate the color blue, and somehow you made me love it. I guess love can conquer everything, huh? We made it against all odds.

I lost a friend but I gained an angel.

I love you, Elvis.