I want a cat. Wantwantwantwantwant. Damned this, I soon can't stand it anymore. How can people live their entire lives without cats? I can't relax without a cat. My head won't shut up. It's better with something small and furry warming my stomach and poking holes in me with very sharp claws, very very carefully as if testing how many holes can be made before stomach-warming privileges are revoked. Something that blinks lazily at me as if saying, "you're being very silly who aren't a cat", and meows demandingly at the fridge as if saying "although you're silly I still need you for operating this unhelpful food-machine".
Someone who's mine, whose trust I'll have to win and whose companionship I need to earn. Someone I have to observe very carefully to adjust perfectly into sync with. Someone who will learn all my little invisible signs, so I can lie to my heart's content; it won't matter. Someone who will smile to itself lazily while I ramble on about the fortunes and misfortunes of life, and wait for me to sit down on the sofa so it can take possession of my lap, because it knows that the words isn't the important thing. The important thing is waking up breathing together, is my heartbeats echoing into its chest and its echoing into my hand, is being alive. Together. Someone to be the solid center of my life; my pivot point.
Cats are so much more than just cats. Not all of them, I suppose. I suppose I met the love of my life way too early, and had to let him go way too early. But maybe there's another one out there. Another perfect host for my cat-symbiotism.
Att våga välja den man är
1 week ago