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The season was the beginning of summer and that day, it wasn’t raining. But when he picked me up, droplets of salty water fell from his face and on to me
Section 1: He and his family
He lived with his mother and every morning, they would eat breakfast together and talk. I didn’t know the content of their conversation nor was I interested but I very much liked the way he looked talking to his mother. His hair, messily tucked behind his ear. His smile, constantly presented on his face. And when he laughed, it had the same rhythm as his mother’s.
When he left for school, he would place his hand on my head and said: “I’ll go and come back, okay?” Then he said goodbye to his mother and went to the other side of the door. His mother left shortly after and didn’t come back until the moon was out.
Section 2: He and his night
Since the day he brought me home, he always came home exhausted and sweaty. He would take a shower first, and then he would feed himself and me. It was the same meal for me every day and without fail, I ate with the same gentle boy watching me.
Afterward, I slept in his lap while he sat at his table for a long time, doing his homework late into the night.
Section 3: He and his tears
He was kind, like his mother and beautiful, like a lover. That was why I quickly became enamored of him. I was used to his soft smile, his bright eyes and gentle hands. But that day, after he came home, he crashed onto the bed and cried for a long time by my side.
He fell asleep just like that, puffy eyes and stuffy nose, wearing that uniform of black and orange. His mother came back, pulled the blanket over him and fed me.
The next morning, he woke up; found me by his side and the smile I like so much was on his face again. It was a morning like all others
Section 4: He and his friend
Some days, he came home with another human. The other was tall, had yellow fur and wore glasses. They did a lot of things together. They cooked, did homework, and watched movies often. Some time, when he decided that I was dirty enough, they would bath me together and it always ended in a water fight between them. Other time, they would sit quietly next to each other and read. I especially enjoyed those days as the sound of pages being flipped and soft breathing lured me to sleep; also because his smile seemed to get brighter.
Section 5: He and his busy days
These days, he came home a lot later and not sweaty like the first day we met. He didn’t eat, only feeding me and sitting next to me, watching me eat. He cleaned up after I had finished. Then before he fell asleep, he would hug me and tell me a lot of things. I didn’t understand what he was telling me and I thought he knew that. But that didn’t stop him from talking to me and at time like that, I was sure that we were thinking the same thing.
Section 6: He and his absent
That day, when I woke up, he wasn’t there on his bed. His mother was still sleeping and outside the window, the world was still a primary black. When his mother woke up, she didn’t seem to find it strange that he wasn’t presented in the house. She carried on her day as usual.
That day, he didn’t come home. His mother came home early and together, we ate. Although his and her gentleness were similar, I still missed him dearly. I didn’t sleep so well that night.
The next day, I went shopping with his mother. It had been a long time since I last went to the world outside the window. The last time I was outside was the day I met him.
Somewhere faraway and unknown, I was searching for him. I was searching for him because he was searching for me. I didn’t know why or how I came to know this but the moment I was in his embrace, everything became warm. That day I was picked up by him and that was why I was his cat.
When we came back, I continued to wait for him. The sun slowly disappeared and just as his mother finished preparing dinner, the door opened and he walked in. He looked tired, messy hair just like when he woke up in the morning but a content smile on his face. I greeted him, wrapping my tail around his leg and rubbed my head against his hand when he patted me. Then he hugged his mother and the three of us ate dinner together.
That night, in his ever-gentle presence, I had the best sleep I’d ever had.
Section 7: He and his ball
We cats enjoyed playing with balls, from big ones to small ones, from balls made of plastic to balls made of yarn. Unlike me, he seemed to like playing a specific kind of ball. It was a bouncy type, colorful and fitted into his hand like it was made for him. He would play it in his room, tossing it up and down when he was bored or played it outside on his day off, hitting it across the net repeatedly. At time, when the ball made weird motions once it crossed the net, he would look happy and energized, running to get the ball back. But most time, the ball just flew normally and landed with a thud on the ground. He would look discouraged and a frown would appear on his face. I didn’t like that look, so I rolled the ball back to him and nuzzled his leg with my nose. He would sit down, pat my head and give me the smile I so much adored before standing back up with an expression I very much enjoy seeing on his face.