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When she wraps herself up on my bed, looking at me while I work, I can see in her a curiosity for what I am doing, as I am curious upon her. She pads over to my computer on silent paws, and studies the screen for hours on end. Can she read my writing? I do not know. But I know that she reads my heart. There is no one else that might comfort me as she does. A silken cheek pressed against mine - and my tears caught upon her fur. A cat�s purr is a song of delight and comfort. It reaches into your soul and pushes the pain away. I see the worry in her eyes, and I feel her reaching out for me. She knows me.  Her eyes flash darkly when my heart stirs for another. Ah, I have seen it happen. Seen her lie jealously staring at whomever has caught my fancy at the moment. Like I feel my heart twist when she bestows her attention upon others. But we both know that it is temporary - we both know that there is no need for competition. Boys? They are but boys. Not one of them would I trade my cat for. Not one of them could take dear Allis� place. She�s my everything. They are but temporary. Some of them realise this. Some know that there is no need to compete with her, because they will lose. She knows it, I know it, and if they are wise, they know it too. |
