When my mind gets jumbled or lost in the confusion of rampaging thoughts, it can cause a large weight on my chest, a lump in my throat and a stomach filled with the flutter of beautiful butterflies. It can make it incredibly difficult for me to swallow, while I listen to the overwhelming thoughts in my head. However, there is an old saying that helps with these burdensome assumptions: if you pick at a flower’s petals repeating the phrase, ‘he loves me, he loves me not’ the last petal will portray the truth of the matter. So it appears it all comes down to this, do they love me or do they love me not?

The only issue with this desperate search for the truth is that cats like me are allergic to flowers.  I have begged to know the truth for myself and not from multiple cats that have never liked my complex fur. The mixture of colors that create a dark lucious coat, deceiving so many and the rough patches caused by those who never thought to understand the complexity. It left me with no choice but to pick the poisonous petals, in hopes the universe will give me the answers to all my questions. That’s where I constantly stayed- in a field of daisies picking at the unfortunate flowers. The only thing I learned was that they all had not loved me. Each time leaving me feeling queasy and quite sick. A hard knot in the back of my throat making it both grueling to swallow and tedious to breathe.

 The last time I had picked flowers my mind was unordinary quiet and all I could hear were the songs of the birds. Until, there was the snapping of a twig. Here it changed, all for the better – even though for a moment I thought it was for the worst. A magnificent cat appeared with a coat of fur that was light, but filled with fire. I had seen him before but never had enough curiosity to stalk him like prey. As soon as I saw him, I made sure my appearance would not seem to bring bad luck so I hid the unpleasant parts of myself. Soon enough he was gone like a leaf in the wind. He distracted me in the moment when he came close to me and filled my mind with curiosity, but it only left me with the begging question: was this curiosity going to poison me like the rest of the fault finding felines? 

When continuing my eon of a conquest, I made a remarkable discovery. I had the pleasure of running into the marvelous feline again, not soon after the first encounter. My mind was still fuzzy from the blooming flowers picked earlier. However, I did not feel sick with him and I could feel my tail slowly start to rise, something that was foreign to me. As we stayed close in proximity I could feel the vibrations from my chest start to produce a noise within me: purs. They were light and airy, but I knew they were there. As he stayed by my side for reasons I could not comprehend, I realized that we were similar. Both searching for the same flourishing flower petal, both affectionate and playful. He felt familiar and brought such warmth like a comforting blanket in the middle of a blizzard. He felt absolute and velvety, I could trust him with my rutted fleece. He didn’t feel poisonous or repulsed by coarse mane and he was not ashamed of my labyrinth colors of emotions. The whole time I could only think, why had he not come to me sooner? Though, it frightened me and not because he could trick me, but for the fact that I could be his reason to pick the forbidden flowers, I once did. 

Despite my hesitation and terror, I took the leap of faith. I allowed him to stay close to me, intertwining our different tail shades and nestling our heads alongside each other’s bodies. The basic forms of affections as a cat. Each interaction with him had me answering my own self-doubting questions; this curiosity was not inadequate, but in fact a cure. My rocky fur did not seem so sharp, and my gloomy shade began to shine with all sorts of colors when he was around me. Although I wish I had met this beautiful, spectacular ginger tabby cat sooner- I am glad I did not. The universe made our greeting for a purpose I may never know, but I am thrilled I had the opportunity to meet him. When I am with him the world feels balanced and refined. A life with him sounds completely and wonderfully, halcyon. I know that we both will never have to pick any troublesome petals and be left with sick tummies. For it was destiny to meet and with this breathtaking creature I always know- he loves me. So, instead I will leave him with a pleading question: do you know if your last petal from me is one that reads “I love you” or “I love you not”?