A certain whimsical mood was on duty in the last couple of days, while most of my cattish features were unattended. Maybe that’s why he prefers puppies. They’re more predictable. More easy to please. Any amount of love and attention, at any given time, for them is just as good. But not for my inner catlike. I need love and attention in a multitude of various forms. The more unexpected, the better. Not huge amounts of time or overwhelming love. Just tiny little precious moments every now and than, sweet morsels for my longing heart. It was a very cosy routine… until recently.
How can he not know that you can spoil a woman a thousand times, but if you’re missing the one thousand and one, it’s like you never spoiled her at all? How can he not know that a day without a word from him is the longest anyone has ever seen? And how can he not know that a day we’ve missed saying I love you is a day I’d rather not lived?
I’m not absurd. We all need to bond with friends and other people outside our relationship. We need time for ourselves alone, to fully express our individuality, to grow, to find our better form before perfectly merge with our dear one just as harmoniously shaped. I couldn’t agree more. And yet… how come he didn’t feel like sending me a single thought all day? It felt like a party I wasn’t invited to. The whole day. The whole week. And I finally acted accordingly. I’ve became unavailable. Long enough to worry him. Long enough to not be able to foresee the outcome. But I shall find it shortly. It may soon please Heaven to render us more happy… or to plunge me into the depths of despair.
There’s nothing more consuming than the waiting.