Yes, I am that much of a cliche: A single, working girl, living alone in a city apartment [and I use the term 'city' very loosely] with a solitary cat.
In my better moments, I feel like Holly Golightly.
At my worst, I feel two kittens short of sad and crazy.
Tonight, I was perhaps a bit of both.
Admittedly, I adore my little Zooey cat. The single girl cliche exists for a reason, pets do help to ease the pains of living alone. When I'm bored, she provides entertainment, when I'm cold, she cuddles [probably more for her own benefit than mine], and when I'm sad, she comforts [or maybe that's the crazy talking]. Tonight, she taught me something.
It was because she wanted her food bowl re-filled. Having had a long day of lounging around the cozy, heated apartment while the rest of the world braved the brisk fall wind, she was understandably famished. She sought me out, stared up at me with those big, green eyes and let out a single meow. At this, I became overwhelmed with the urge to not just pick her up and hold her, but to squeeze her in a hug that stopped just shy of suffocating. I was suddenly the Abominable Snowman from Looney Tunes, I wanted to hug her and squeeze her and call her George. OK, so maybe not that last part, but I needed to hold her, simply because I could.
Isn't it funny how caring for something allows you to feel a sort of ownership over it? I imagine my urge to suddenly show affection to my cat is but a fraction of what a new parent feels looking at their child: the idea that you created this being and therefore should have every right to random attacks of suffocation. I know from experience that it's similar to the emotion felt in a romantic relationship.
That has always been one of the emotions that marvels and excites me, the idea that, once you've reached a certain stage of togetherness with another person, you can pretty much reach out and touch them whenever you wish. And I'm not just talking about the more intimate touches, I'm talking about even something as small as reaching over and touching their nose. Think about it, when else is it socially acceptable to feel you have the right to invade another human being's space as you do your own pet's? It still baffles me and gives me immense pleasure to know it is my right as the girlfriend to reach out whenever I wish and touch whatever I want [within reason, but honestly, how many guys would object to any of it?]. It is both disturbing and liberating, the rights we allow one another under the contract of love, but really, when you're sharing saliva on a daily basis what else is off limits?
It's that lack of inhibition and boundaries that I miss often as a single girl. The need to reach out and touch strangers or embrace my fellow Target shoppers in a hug simply doesn't go over well in polite society.
So for now, I'll settle for my cat. Just shoot me if I get any more and start referring to them as my children.
Alice in Wonderland
adventures in love & heartbreak with single girl Alice She Helm.
