Recently some of my bugs have died. I failed Luther, my Dynastes Tityus grub, and that stung. Some of my Odontotaenius Disjunctus have died as well, but of old age.
Talking about it with a friend, I said a thing, and figured I should put it here:
"I've lived caring for bugs long enough, most of which have short life spans, I understand how it goes.
At this point, what matters to me is how happy I can keep them. If I can keep them alive and well... I am happy. If they die of old age... I am happy. As fragile little bugs, there's so much that could've gone wrong. They could have had a much more violent, painful death at many points along their lives. But the fact that they die of old age gives me a sense of satisfaction, for I know that they made the most out of their lives as they could.
I'm sad to see them go, I miss them a little some times. But in the end, I feel and hope that I am doing a good job with them."