Sometimes--lately, most of the time--I proceed through my life with a sense that the best is over. Another breakup with another woman, a better job I never get, a nicer home I can't afford--fine. This is it. The rest of my life, spent in a small apartment in the company of cats. Kind of depressing, but it's the life I've made.
A few days ago, I tried reconnecting with someone I knew was bad for me, but I wanted to feel her, touch her, hold her again, if only briefly, if only to remind myself what it feels like. It didn't go well--surprise, surprise!--and I was reminded why I had sworn off the dating scene, at least temporarily. It isn't worth the...I was going to say "pain", but that suggests I'm still capable of being hurt, and lately that doesn't even seem possible anymore.
I wasn't angry or sad or upset at bedtime last night, just numb, as always. I turned on a Hogan's Heroes marathon and zoned out, and as often happens when Bob Crane is on my TV screen, drowsiness arrived, followed by the blessed relief of sleep.
Many hours later, as I drifted slowly awake, I became aware of a close presence around my face, a slight weight on my body. I didn't move, but I opened my eyes, and in the TV's flickering glow I saw Delmar curled up on the pillow beside me, his left front leg draped across my shoulder and neck.
Delmar, the bitter malcontent! Delmar, the psychokitty! Delmar, who growls and hisses and so often seems incapable of showing affection. Delmar, this wiry, cranky little cat held me as I slept.
Does he do this all the time? Is he only capable of kindness when he knows I won't respond? Is he embarrassed or confused by any displays of emotion, and can only let his feelings for me be known while I'm in another state?
Eyes shut tight, television light reflected in his spiky black fur, he wheezed his odd little snore, and I felt such an overpowering sense of love. For Delmar, of course, but not just for him. For everything, really. Life isn't about what we accomplish or who we are. The joy of living is contained in small, perfect moments, and it turns out I've been blessed with more than a few. Maybe--just maybe--it really is a wonderful life.
