so i get up. check his water level (fine, why he still chooses to drink out of the toilet and my powerade bottle is beyond me) and his food level (also adequate for the little fat pucker). against my own wishes, i leave my door open so he can climb into bed with me. this is what he wants, even though ever other surface of my apartment is more hospitable than the one he will be sharing with me. he'd find more affection from the open flame on my gas stove.
when he gets too close, i threaten him with a bottle of fabreeze. you have to speak his language. he is anti mountain breeze.
he needs to be close to my face. when i open my eyes, his evil green darts are trained on mine and it is like sleeping with a stalker. when i shift, he takes his paw and caresses the back of my head. plays with my ponytail. also like sleeping with a stalker.
i woke again and he was running his paw down my arm. repeatedly. like he was trying to soothe me. like he was trying to pet me. all of this really creeps me out. i don't know where he learned to pet. its not like i've ever done it to him.
sometimes i am convinced that he is a reincarnated someone. and that reincarnated someone has it bad for me.
this is why i won't let him see me naked. the idea of him making a hopped up lunge for my naked breast scares the beejeebees out of me.
one time a friend of mine said: why do you hate the people who love you?
i should have said: i don't. unless they're cats.