This is not a story about animals. Yes this week’s theme was animals, and I used them in the story, but is not about them. This is not a story about a specific person either, or is it…? To be honest, I don’t know anymore. This is just a story about a coward… and because he hurt my ego, I have to write about it, even if I have more important things to write. And even if this is shit, it has helped me heal. So good luck with this one, people. As a feminist, I try not to compare men to animals. In general, society would excuse everything a man does by comparing him to an animal. Boys will be boys or some other stupid bullshit. I try not to call men beasts, because I understand that men are capable of reasoning and they aren’t just mindless monsters with no self control… It might seem like I don’t try hard enough, but believe me I do try, I try so hard not to compare men to animals… Then comes the idiot. You see, he was a nice little thing to play with. He was a nice thing to look at, just like a little fish. A fish that could whisper sweet nothings into my ears, but he kept to himself and he didn’t take much space or bother me at all. He made my ego grow twice its size, a dangerous thing to do, since my ego was already the size of a Hippo. You see, he flew me over the skies… He became a majestic bird. He made me fly alongside him and I saw the world underneath us. It was wonderful. He was wonderful. We were amazing. He made me feel so good. He was like a drug. I couldn’t get enough. The trip was so great and so crazy, that I felt like I was licking a toad. Damn beautiful toad, with his perfect lips and sad looking eyes. I, a feminist, believed he was a prince in disguise. Ironic, I know. And how could I not think he was a prince? I’ve already compared him to a toad, all I had to do was kiss him, lick him, suck him enough to make him change into a prince. And I did just that. I licked. I kissed. I sucked. He changed. Oh he changed. He became a beast. In the middle of the trips he’d turned into a tiger, and he would growled out my name. He was strong, fierce, bad…. and I loved every second of it. And then, just like that, he’d turned into a little kitty. I enjoyed him as a kitty. He was fun when he was my kitty. He’d let me play with his hair, pinch his cheeks, and let him lay his head on my chest. And it happened. He wasn’t my little play thing, he wasn’t my little toy… He became more. He looked like a prince, and acted like a loyal puppy. He was perfect. So so so perfect. If you’d see him on the streets, you’d be scare of him, because my puppy was a big strong scary wolf. Loyal to only me. Or so I thought. My little fish, my birdie, my toad, my tiger, my kitty, my puppy, my wolf… he would leave me and go to someone else. He’d lie to my face. He wasn’t the only shapeshifter I’d spent my days playing with, and he knew it. He also knew he had a special place in my life. As I said, he was wonderful, perfect, so he was my second in command, and all the shapeshifters knew that he was special. But suddenly, without any explanation he stopped coming to me. Stopped taking me out to fly. He stopped taking me on wonderful trips… No matter how much I’d kiss, lick and suck, he would simply stay the same. I try reaching out to him, even though my Blue Whale size ego would get hurt every time I’d reach out first. But I did. And everything would be amazing. And then he’d stop once more. So I stopped reaching out too. Then another change. Like a caterpillar turning into a butterfly. He came back, he became even more attached to me. And I thought he was my wonderful kitty again, we had fun, more fun than before. He acted like my kitty, but he wasn’t. He’d sneak out on me, and went to the neighbor’s bed. And she would pick him up. She would spent all day with him, and he’d come back late at night. Some nights he just wouldn’t come back at all. You see, all I ever expected from him was honesty. Because he isn’t an animal acting on instinct, and because I deserve honesty. After all, I was and I am honest. If he’d just told me he had someone else, I wouldn’t have mind at all… but he lied to me. And he lied to her. For her he was the only one. She called him lover, I called him pet. She was so in love, after all, she spent all the days he was with me believing he was only hers, and falling deeper in love. And I told him I couldn’t do it anymore. I couldn’t just pretend like he wasn’t hurting her and using me. He looked me with those big sad puppy eyes, and begged me to stay… But I couldn’t. I never thought I would compare myself to a cat. But right now, that’s exactly what I will do. I couldn’t stay with him, because even though I never wanted a serious committed relationship, I love attention. I love to get attention when I ask for it. I want to be number one, but I want my space too. I’m like his own damn cat. Yes, I fell in love with his stupid black cat. She would demand cuddles and kisses from him, and scratch when she didn’t get them. I would laugh it off because I found it adorable. But when you are a grown woman, who is acting just like a spoil cat… is not that adorable. Besides, there is another girl in his life, a girl who didn’t even know of my existence. She’s sweet, and beautiful and wonderful. And she doesn’t deserve what I was doing to her. I didn’t know of her existence, and as soon as I found out I asked him why? But he wasn’t human enough to answer. He stuck his head in the ground like an ostrich… and never talked to me about it. For that, he doesn’t deserve one more paragraph. So this one is for you Rae. Your tail made my heart melt every time, and I’m sure you knew it, because you would move it around like you were stripping and seducing me. Your purrs and your meows made me feel warm inside. You were the only cat to capture my love, and your demanding of love and affection was my favorite thing. Baby, I loved petting you and cuddling you. I’m sorry I didn’t get to say goodbye, but that’s not my fault. Scratch him for that. And if I ever talk to your daddy again, I’d tell him: “Please, tell your cat I miss her.”
