Rooted, I used to think.

Profile - Archive- RSS
Notes - Email - Diaryland

Purgatory - Sunday, Feb. 10, 2019
Day Fifteen - Saturday, Feb. 09, 2019
Day Fourteen - Saturday, Feb. 09, 2019
Day Thirteen - Thursday, Feb. 07, 2019
Atonement - Thursday, Feb. 07, 2019

Friday, Aug. 17, 2012 @ 9:24 am

We got another (third) offer on the house, but I have a sinking feeling that it is going to fall through (again). Real estate in Prince George is ridiculous. Just by typing this I have jinxed it.

Daniel is dead set decided that Alf has to go to a new home. I don't think that the situation is that bad, but D will not adapt to it and we can't discuss it without him accusing me of 'taking sides with the cat'. I'm stuck - obviously a human relationship is more important than a cat, but my chest gets all tight thinking about someone taking him away. I don't understand why he brought me home a kitten when he didn't want the responsibility of owning an animal. Letting him outside would solve a lot of issues, but I don't think that's a responsible solution. I guess that I just have to let him go and try to not think about it, but goddamnit I love that cat more than any other living thing in my life. I've told him to him over and over to just find Alf a new home, that I don't want anything to do with it, that I'm tired of talking about it. I know that he is having a hard time bringing himself to do it, mostly because of my feelings. I let Mabel go without a fight, as she was meant to be his cat from the start. Alf, though, I want to fight for him. But I can't.

We went to the beach last night, my favourite beach. Swam in the water that had just come up over the hot sand. Ate seedy bread with goat cheese, avocados, and tomatoes. Shopped for records with dripping salty hair. Went to my parents for ice cream and blueberries. Drove home with the windows open through the bright city night.

Alf's furry face burned into my retinas. Alf licking my legs dry as I step from the shower in the morning. Alf pushing his head into my hand so hard that his teeth graze my skin. Alf kneading the air as I pick him up in the morning. Alf. Alf. Alf.

Roots | Shoots