This realisation was a pretty painful one to admit to after sitting and contemplating it for a while. Reason being, I like being on my own. I like not having to answer to anyone, I like sleeping in the middle of my double-size bed and #sorryNotsorry, but I like not sharing. In fact, I like relying only on myself. And to top things off, you might gasp but, I actually really love being alone all the time. So when this bastard of a flu came around one day, I found myself hallucinating about soup being brought to me on a cloud of kisses, amongst other things. And that’s when it hit me, in between shivering and throwing up, I missed the comfort one brings when they take care of you. The strength that they pass on and the love that oozes out from their pores is a wondrous blanket that engulfs you. You feel safe… secure in a little cocoon.
I wrote this title about
92 96 days ago, so please forgive me, I have no clue where I first read it. However, I’ve put quotes, which indicates I did not say it. You know, just in case some Joe Shmo penalises me for plagiarism of a sentence. I did not write the title. Okay? Okay!
Last night my friend sent me this delightful image…
Funny right? I thought so, in fact I actually laughed my ass off! “Oh they think I’m going to turn into a crazy cat lady, ha ha ha. Those guys!” But then I started to get hot flashes and heart palpitations. It would seem that it caused a slightly more volatile reaction then what was originally intended. “Oh my god, they think I’m going to be alone for the rest of my life! Am I too set in my ways? Do they think me as a dry crusty plain toasted piece of white bread who is so plain she will never even be labelled as the granary kind? Is it because I’ve turned into a fat tubby pile of sh*t?! That’s got to be the reason!” After this quickfire round of insane questions and statements ricochetted around inside my cranial skull, I then started to believe that all had been lost, that hope had left the building and I might as well accept my plight and go quietly down with the sinking ship. My imagination ran wild with one miserable scenario in particular that repeated itself over and over again. It was of me roaming (most likely waddling) the desolate streets of whatever godforsaken city I was in and be known to all as the plumpy pied piper of cats.