Trying to Cope

My cat, Simba, was put to sleep over a week ago because his kidneys were failing. I was heartbroken. That cat was my baby and he was only two-years-old. I had him since he was a kitten.

I'm trying to stay strong, but my whole house is a constant reminder of Simba. There are his toys he loved playing with, places where he would sharpen his claws, the small space behind my TV where he loved napping, cat food he never got a chance to eat, and there's a bunch of pictures on my phone of him. At least once a day since his passing, I'd start crying. I loved him so much and now this house feels so empty without him. I miss him so much.

I wish I was like my brother or my mom, because they cried for a few days and then they were fine. But not me. I can't seem to cope with my cat's death. I've lost pets before and no doubt I'll lose more in the future, so I don't know why I can't just heal and accept the fact he's in a better place now and isn't suffering anymore. I hate feeling like this.

Heal, damn it. Heal. Why is that so hard?