boys, boys, boys, boys

Jan 17, 2010 22:54

There are probably a baker's dozen of long stories that really should precede this, but I just wanted to preserve this one memory from last weekend that has been flashing through my mind a lot lately. It's about Mike. I will just write this in the same way it keeps replaying in my mind:

Mike and I are are lying on his bed, which is really a futon on the ground. We're cuddling and I have my head on his bare chest, my right arm slung over his stomach. I lift my head to kiss, and we are doing just that when his cat Otto somehow appears on his chest. I have no idea how he got there, I didn't see him run or jump or crawl in advance. In surprise, we break apart: Otto has all four feet square on Mike's chest and stomach, their faces, once Mike lifts his head, are about 6 inches apart.

Otto is gorgeous, a Maine Coon that is varying shades of dark gray to white and large eyes that are always asking questions. He is a very calm cat and aside from the occaisional sneezing, the smell of his poops in the litter bin and his light strands of hair clinging to the feet of my tights, he doesn't bother me too much.

Anyway, so the cat is staring right into Mike's eyes and vice-versa. They hold this gaze for a few minutes, I think, while we both pet the cat. I don't know why this moment strikes me and chooses to repeat itself in my mind, particularly. Maybe it is the tenderness that he shows toward the cat. Maybe it is because we are both petting the cat and there is this unspoken positive energy floating around, I'm not really sure. After a little while, Mike tells Otto to get off, get off! in a crescendo, and I laugh. A little push from Mike runs Otto off and back into the darkness and then we are back where we started, his arm around me and my head on his chest.

The next night I went over, got a bloody nose and bled all over him for a while before either of us even noticed. It was one big bloody mess all over the place and I was completely mortified. I expected to not hear from him again, surely. Happily, however, I did. But I'm still not sure where this is going.

*Update 01-24-10* Otto is less cool now, since he tried to claw my tights, yeouch! Bad Otto.
*Update 03-21-10* Otto is cool again because there have been several more tender moments, including one where Mike asked,
"do you like my cat?"
"i do, yeah. and i don't normally like cats."
"really? you like otto?"
"yeah. i mean some cats i get along with okay, but i really like him." Mike just looks at me for a while and smiles.
Also Otto likes to lick my hand when I am sleeping.
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