It's been nearly two weeks since I lost Stripes and over a month since I lost Cocoa, my favorite rooster. I keep saying the same thing, "I want a second chance, I want them back." It has taken me this long to finally accept that they aren't coming back. Especially when it's sudden, like it was for you and Marissa. I know what you mean when you say that Marissa got you through tough times. It was that way with Stripes. I had a nasty back injury 6 years ago and was unable to work for a year. Everything hurt and I spent that summer lying on a day bed on my front porch, with a constant supply of painkillers ready. Stripes wasn't even tame then. I couldn't touch him. But he was at the point where he'd sit at the opposite end of the porch from me. I'd talk to him and he'd listen. It was a horrible time in my life with no job and feeling like I had no friends. I suppose that's why I had such a bond with him. He didn't have anybody either. Of course I had my other cats and my dogs, but somehow Stripes was different.
Scary dream. I think you're right that it had something to do with the euthanasia. I had one too a few days ago. My Stripes was a socialized former feral who couldn't be made into a house cat. My boyfriend found him on 1-31, he'd been killed by a car, and my only consolation was that at least we found him. Anyway, I dreamed that I'd lost my coonhound, Moonshine. In the dream we looked for him for months, posted on craigslist and Facebook, searched the roads. And we never found him, and after 3 months we gave up. I think that was my brain's way of telling me that this is final. It's over and I can't change it.
"Some of you say, "Joy is greater than sorrow" and others say, "Nay, sorrow is the greater." But I say unto you, they are inseparable. Together they come, and when one sits alone with you at your board, remember that the other is asleep upon your bed." Khalil Gibran