Beanie level: Errand boy

This is short notice, but any Beanies want to watch a movie later? I’m thinking a silly, low key Japanese live action manga adaptation (like Kimi no Todoke or LovCom), but open to suggestions ~

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Let’s just say I was bored at work and got inspired for Theme of the Month. Six pages, and I’m not close to being done with my argument. I think I have a problem.

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You + me = Song of Songs: the Remix

😚

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Is your name Earl Gray?

Cause you seem like a hot tea!
😘😘😘😘

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HP = the gateway fandom

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One also shouldn’t only focus on one fandom for their material

Quantity equals quality, people!

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Gosh, why are kdrama pick up lines so masochistic???

Great eyebrows though

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You have to be careful with this line. It could be taken as harassment…

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Still don’t get the love, but I guess curls and dorkiness do things to people?

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    #iconic

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    I still haven’t gotten around to watching this.

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      Honestly? same.

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        Yeah. Well, I did kind of watch the first episode a while back, with the intention of watching the entire drama. I just never got back to it. It’s been so long since I kind of watched that first episode though …… I think I’d need to watch from the beginning anyway if I ever got back to it. Oh well. One of these days! *looks at never-ending To Watch Later List*

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      It’s….not a good show, really. So many tropes and cliches that you’d think it was a parody. But addictive? Yes. Inexplicably.

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    This was my second drama EVER. And I’ve tried numerous times to rewatch it and its flat out….you know…the opposite of good. But I still remember my rant when LMH’s character smiles at hospital hussy in the last minute amnesia plot. Sanity…was not with me that day.

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😘

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Can you say no to this face? I couldn’t

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    He’s the only reason I made it through Hospital Ship.

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      Me too! That was a shipwreck of a drama… though he looked great. At least we know he’ll come back from the army looking even better right? *cough*

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The other meaning of Valentines Day is pick up lines. Best if they involve puns.

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What is the real meaning of Valentines Day?

Puns.

That is all.

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Day 14

Words words words words
I can’t handle words today
My head is full of them
I make them into sentences, paragraphs, and stories
They’re all so petty
Petty
Petty
So I start again
I want to say something profound
Inspiring
Sincere
Real
It’s the last day
But my experience just seems overdramatic
My love is so very, very petty
I can’t handle these words
To the kitchen
To the front door
To the window, my bedroom, the bathroom, and back again
And back again
Back
Again
Again
I try a new story, of my history with valentine’s
I have to sit down for a moment to cry
I’m pathetic, a coward, I cannot share
As usual, my feet won’t stay still
While my head burns with words and my hands shake, clammy with heat
Wait
The thermometer reads 102 Fahrenheit
I sit down with a shiver
My icy hands only warm when I have a fever
Is love like a sickness? That warms cold hearts, cold hands?
I learned growing up that love is a healer
I wonder if there is any love in myself
Cause I only find sadness and anger when I look inside
Maybe that’s the fever talking
I don’t know anymore
I want to know love
I think I did once
Maybe
Maybe
Maybe
We can meet again
I think I need to sleep

Love, February

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    Thank you thank you thank you everyone for participating, even if you say you only commented, or posted just one day, know that you mean so much, and I am so grateful for this sharing of hearts.

    Happy Valentine’s Day!
    @kimbapnoona @justme @greenfields @leetennant @sicarius @egads @wishfultoki @raonah @ally-le @moana @anothernicole @snarkyjellyfish @khalessymd
    @waadmay @oppafangirl @katakwasabi @mindy @isthatacorner
    @fatcat007 @sweetiepie54

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    My daughter was just diagnosed with the flu. Today. It’s going around. But we did get the vaccine. So it should be less severe. I hope you feel better soon! Get some sleep. Drink something warm. Hot cocoa, maybe?

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    Get well soon Coco!
    And yes please get a good amount of rest.

    Also thank you for starting this. The first 2 weeks of Feb has been amazing thanks to you & all other beanies who contributed

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    Thanks so much for this prompt, Coco. It’s been a bit of a revelation; a powerful one.
    And I really relate to this piece so much.

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    “To the kitchen
    To the front door
    To the window, my bedroom, the bathroom, and back again
    And back again
    Back
    Again
    Again”

    I can’t pinpoint exactly why these lines touched me so much, but i absolutely love them. The whole poem is wonderful–poignant and real, which is always my favorite–but these lines stood out especially much. Maybe because I feel in some ways that they describe what the whole LF experience has been for me? Going back and forth through memories to see what love is (to me and to others), coming and going through thoughts and posts to build a fuller idea of love. I feel like I’m not making sense, but maybe you’re taking flu meds now and will think its you and not me 😉 In any case, these lines spoke to me. This poem spoke to me. This whole endeavor has been a meaningful journey. FEEL BETTER SOON. you are loved ❤️❤️❤️

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    Thank you so much for this Love Feb idea! It was cathartic, emotional and so wonderful to read the posts.

    I hope you feel better! Sending you healing vibes!

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    Oh Cocoa. Thanks for championing this idea and for making us all bare our souls at one point or another. Now rest! That’s an order. From your Queen. ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

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    *Hugs* Coco , Take a long proper rest and get well soon 💙💚💛💜💙💚💛💜🖤🖤

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Day 13

Inspired by @anothernicole and @sicarius

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    Day 13
    As usual, the headache woke her up.  Her mind refused to let her body open her eyes.  Only pain went that way, especially as she unpleasantly realized there was more light outside of her than expected.

    She cracked open an eye.  Her windows were open, and the air was fresh.  She slowly opened the other.  There was less mess than she was used to in the room, which made her wonder if she was in the wrong apartment as she slowly sat up from the couch.

    A nondescript person appeared in her vision, and forcibly, yet suggestively set a tray on the coffee table in front of her.  There was burnt toast, porridge, and a steaming pot that smelled of ginger.  She glared, “Did I give you a key?” the question was both rhetorical and curious.  The previous night had been Friday, and she’d blacked out, as usual.

    The rustle of beige and gray continued cleaning.  She scowled and reached beneath the couch for her favorite eye opener, but it was gone.  “Why you thieving, self righteous…”

    A cup of tea was set in front of her.

    The mousy haired stranger checked her watch, then sat next to her, and carefully, gently brushed the tangles from her hair.

    She sighed and sipped the tea.  “You breaking and entering like this reminds me of when we first learned to pick locks and put mouse bait in people’s beds.”  She tried to giggle, but could only wince instead.  “Who did we get expelled for that?  It wasn’t Kim, we did him in with those rumors about the laundry room.”

    She stopped talking as her caretaker brought her towels, warm and cold, to wash up with.  “I always said you were born to be my minion.”  She saw, with satisfaction, a muscle twitch in that neutral mask, and let out a short, bitter laugh.  
    She heard those unsaid words, “If I’m to stay your minion, than you should have stayed a queen,” and chose to ignore them.

    Suddenly, the towels were taken away and a screen propped up.  After a final check of the watch, a video chat window appeared.

    At first all they saw were the drab prison clothes, numbered not named, and dull blonde hair.  Then they saw her eyes, sparkling, her nose that twitched when her mouth quirked.  She held up both hands to wave at them, unable to make a sound in her joy.

    The queen drinking tea finally ignored her throbbing head and smiled.

    And the carefully commonplace person laughed in the most uncommon way.

    Love, February

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      My favorite fictional friendships are those of female criminals. All the love. The end.

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        What is this from?

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          Oops, I forgot to explain it’s a scene of characters I made up (that’s why I mentioned Sic and Nicole, since they had posted character concepts earlier this week)

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            I kind of thought so! And then I was like, this is so good. Like, a professional writer must of written this. It’s so good. I hope you publish the book one day!

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            Haha thanks Ally ~ I’m not sure it’s that professional, but they are characters I’ve been getting to know for a long time. I’ve imagined this scene so many times, I’m sure I’ve written it out before. The broken queen being cared for by her former servant, for the sake of what was and the other servant who gave up her freedom for them. Them sharing food together, because they can never give up this friendship that has been their one constant.

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      So, one thing about old fairytales I love is how they are simply told and stark they are. I feel as though anyone can read them and imagine in their heads the characters and their backstories.

      Over ten years ago now I got this idea in my head for my own, modern, version of Snow White. This scene is sort of an epilogue for that story, which has the evil queen disgraced and destroyed, but still cared for by her faithful friends, the huntsman and the magic mirror, who have been her partners in crime since they met during school days.

      I know, I know. It’s super cheesy. But also my favorite depiction of female friendship that I’ve made up, though I know my words can’t do it justice.

      Thanks for reading ~

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      I’m so ready for your book, Coco.

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        Thank you for being such so positive! I think I’m intimidated by the prospect I’ve writing the book is because I’m afraid I won’t do the story justice after knocking it around my head so many years.

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          Oi, I think we never are/never will be entirely satisfied with what we do, such is life, but life is also about making peace with it, no? Either way, I’m so entirely positive you’ll do it justice and more, especially since it’s been living in your head for so long! The characters and stories must be dying to go out into the world!

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      Oh i am IN!!! “And the carefully commonplace person laughed in the most uncommon way.” perfectly eerie. this is great. i hope you keep going with this! <3 <3 <3

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        That carefully commonplace person is my favorite character. The only ones who still recall their name and individuality is the sloshed queen and the imprisoned magic mirror.

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      Yes a novel please. Or a book of short stories?

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Day 12 ~
Hot chocolate is like love
Warm and sweet

Like love, we all have our preferences
You can choose cream or marshmallows
Some prefer refreshing peppermint
Others the burnt intensity of caramel

I love my cocoa dark
Bitterness equaling the sweet
Deepening the flavor until
It encompasses my life, my heart, my all

So too is love
Intense, bitterness mixing with sweet
Strengthened by the life that
Keeps moving it forward

Like hot chocolate
My love is sweet
My heart is warm

Frothy days made
If light and air
Like whipped cream
Temper the bitter depths
Letting the dark
Sigh in relief

I savor each sip
Fearful of losing
Each decadent swallow

And even when my cocoa cools
I would not gain the world
If it meant to lose
Even its most tepid taste

Love, February

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Day 11 ~

Do you remember me?

Your faces run together, but yes, I remember you.

Many times you are alone, but often you have company. Family that grows that much more tired each time I see you, each day that goes by.  Lifelong friends who hold your hand and laugh too loudly, afraid of the place, afraid of me, and smile that you look better before anxiously cornering me, asking with lowered voices about numbers and tests that they have just learned about.

They love you.

Do I love you? You either avert your eyes when I enter the room, or loudly welcome me. Pretend I\’m not there as I go about my work, making me ask all my questions twice and more, or hang up the phone and hang on my every word.  Often you do both in one day, one hour.

It\’s hard to love you, sometimes.  When you grimace in pain and say you cannot breathe, with no problems laughing, or eating, or speaking.  When you say you cannot see and sway in my arms, only to perfectly season your food and snoop at my desk when my back is turned.

Today, \”I can\’t handle her,\” another nurse said. \”When all she does is try to convince me to give her narcotics, and next door she never asks me for anything, and she is, she is…\”

\”Dying,\” I supply, with no exaggeration. You wear so many faces, have so many different moods and illnesses, it\’s hard not to become worn, wary to believe. Sometimes you leave us never to return, and I don\’t bat an eye.  When I go home I\’m angry, angry at life and all it does to you, and cry for the persons you were and are, and never more will be.

Sometimes you go cold on me.  Slowly or quickly, my stomach sinks with the same speed.  I can still see your son, hiding just out of sight at the doorway.  \”She gets excited, thinking I\’m taking her home if she sees me.\”  I see your wife, waiting beside you, sharing her worries with me in the corridor.  Your spouses love to tell me of the person you were, how strong, how important, as you sit shriveled, with eyes that break their hearts.  Her legs are swelling, her heart weakening, yet she worries if she isn\’t next to you, here, she doesn\’t want you to be alone.
 
One day I\’m sent to work on a different floor, and I get a call that I have family at the desk.  It\’s your wife, and she hugs me, she brought food for staff, she whispers in my ear, she was worried I wouldn\’t get to eat.  That\’s love that I didn\’t expect, that I don\’t know if I\’m comfortable with, or worthy of.  All I do is my job.
I can\’t forget the sound of your daughter\’s wail, as she realizes what \”resuscitation\” really means.  That sound comprises a life time of love, and it scares me.  I had to turn, had to remind myself to breathe as I so often remind you, before exhaling and returning to you, the beloved.  You died an hour later, and I mourned you for the sake of her love.

Today you were eighty, and I overheard you telling your friend that you heard music the night before.  \”It was so beautiful, the most wonderful music I had ever heard.  Heaven really does have the most wonderful sounds.\”  And you closed your eyes, and sighed in wonder.

Love, February

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      My friend’s dad, and his grandpa have been fighting for so long, and I won’t get into everything that’s happening because it’s not my place, but they’ve all been fighting together and fighting each other for years, and years. And it’s so hard, and people can be difficult and confusing and ornery but they’re also so incredibly precious, and it makes it harder. I’ve never truly known the dad or grandpa really well, but his other family members are like my own.. hearing stories about what they’re like, the lives they lived.. gah. Gah gah gah.
      I hope they’ll party up in heaven.

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      I’ve also spent months at a time as a visiting family member. I appreciated the nursing staff more than you’ll ever know. The patience of nurses and other staff is something to behold and the right nurse, a nurse like you, is a precious gift.

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    Having spent a fair amount of time as one of those visiting family members in the last few years, I hope you know just how much I appreciate the work you do. Not just the medical and physical labor, but also the emotional labor. I know you smile even when your feet and mind are screaming for relief. I know you put up with awful situations, patients, families, and other staff. I can’t know it all, and I won’t pretend to, but I hope you know that some of us see you and are thankful you are there, making the stay of our dad, mom, aunt, child, or friend more comfortable in the least comfortable of places.

    This was lovely Coco, and I’ll remember these words the next time.

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    “That’s love that I didn’t expect, that I don’t know if I’m comfortable with, or worthy of. All I do is my job.”
    You’re more than doing your job, and you’re more than worthy.
    Nurses are really my favorite people in the world…I can’t imagine how exhausting (physically and emotionally) it must be to spend your days in such an environment, yet here you are, sharing your stories about a human, not a patient!
    I’ve told you before and I’ll say it again, you’re the best kind of nurse!

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    i really don’t have the words, but thank you for sharing. tight, warm hugs to you.

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    And this is why nurses are the backbone of medicine and medicine is breaking our backs. This isn’t the forum (I have others on which to discuss this) but you are appreciated by all you car me for! Keep up the good fight. I’ll be cheering for you!

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    “and cry for the persons you were and are, and never more will be.”

    You are strong Coco.

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    No words to say just tight Hugs 💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

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    I have no words other than to say you are awesome and so appreciated. **Hugs**

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    Sending you love and hugs and flowers with a big thank you note.

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Lie down.

Listen to a favorite song.

Think of your favorite character.

Let a different world wash over you.

This? This is also love.

Love, February




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Day 9
Seriously relating to Benedick trying to write a poem about love
Love, February
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SIMdI4ywV58

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    Day 9 ~
    Benedick: By this hand I do love thee
    Beatrice: Than use it for my love some other way than swearing by it.
    ~ William Shakespeare, Much Ado About Nothing

    Love is hard to do, even harder to define.  What does love look like?  In “Much Ado About Nothing,” there are several different loves depicted, the banter of Benedick and Beatrice, the naive mooning of Claudio and Hero, the bromances of Don Pedro, Benedick, and Claudio together, the sisterly friendship of Hero, Beatrice, Margaret, and Ursula.  Even Don John’s followers have a sort of affection for him.

    It’s easy to get angry watching or reading this play.  The treatment of Hero by the men who say they love her is infuriating.  She is a good woman for obeying her father, but easily disbelieved, humiliated and thrown away by those who praised her until that moment (her lover, her father, Don Pedro).  At the end she is happily married to the man who had her faking her death, once he is reassured of her virginity.  Young love, am I right?

    The love between Benedick and Beatrice is as different as night is to day.  It is hinted that they have a history, as she “know[s him] of old,” and clearly both take delight in insulting the other.  It’s unrealistic that they would fall in love instantly on learning of the other’s affection (faked or otherwise).  It sounds like something back in middle school, a friend deciding they like someone after hearing rumors they are crushing on them.  But Benedick and Beatrice display a maturity towards the other that the romance of Hero and Claudio lack ~ Benedick believes Beatrice when she states Hero was wronged, because his love is based on trust.  Beatrice doesn’t let him get away with just stating his love, he must prove he is willing to act on her behalf.

    The most complex love story though, is the bromance of Benedick, Claudio, and Don Pedro, threatened as it is by jealousy, trickery, and outright wrong decisions made between friends.

    Now, I’m no Elizabethan scholar, just the usual fan of the W. S., so I’ll just leave my shallow musings with this final thought ~ Love is not love if it swearings and statements. Love is love if, at the end of the day, it has you going out of your way for something.  Be that a person, a place or a thing, you must be willing to take action for it.

    And people, be a Benedick, not a Claudio.  Don’t be a Hero either, seriously, faking your death might have unintended consequences.
    “For man is a giddy thing”
    Love, February

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      Beatrice’s face upon seeing you tell people to be more like Benedick :

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      This is great! It totally reminded me of the youtube web series Nothing Much to Do which is a vlog version of Much Ado About Nothing! Have you seen it?

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      It’s been such a long time since I thought of this play. But the most recent time I saw it was Joss Whedon’s (who I’m convinced is a genius) version. Did you know that he would have readings of Shakespeare with all kinds of actors and writers and one day had an idea to actually shoot this one at his home? The bedroom Beatrice and Hero share in the film was his daughters! And I loved that room. It had these twinkle stars that I thought were so whimsical. Now, I want to rewatch it. Oh, Nathan Fillion was also in it, who played the ineffectively effective magistrate and was hilarious. And yeah, I’m definitely more drawn to Beatrice than Hero. And more likely to marry a Benedick as well. I totally agree with you!

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        I remember I went and saw that in the local indie theater when it came out ~ I didn’t know the background though! I’d have to say my favorite modern day retelling is the BBC’s Shakespeare Retold version ~ it’s delightful! 🥰

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      Thank you very much Coco 💛💙💚💛💙💚💛💙💚

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    *wild applause* this play is an underrated delight and i’m thrilled to see it here. (this version of this play was particularly amazing, too.) one of my favorite lines from WS comes from Much Ado… “there was a star danced / and under that was i born.” thank you for this treat!

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Day 8 ~ True Love
I didn’t believe in love at first sight, but when you first saw me you didn’t look away.

Laughingly I said hello and turned away.  I wasn’t there to meet anyone.

But you followed me from room to room, watching me, smitten, as I talked to my family.

My mom saw you there, sneaking looks from the doorway.

She thought you were cute.

But I was seventeen, bound soon for college, and didn’t want to commit to anyone, no matter how green your eyes.

You stood by the window as we left, and looked so lonely as we pulled away.

“Love at first sight.” my mom sighed.

Imagine my surprise a week later when I came home to find you waiting.  A red bow was tied around your neck.  You mewed joyously as I lifted you from that cardboard box.

My mom beamed.

It’s eight years later now, and my furry feline tries to eat the pen from my hand as I write by the fire.  She coos and throws her head back as I scratch her neck.

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