It's near 11 pm and me and the cat sit in the living room. She climbs on the couch and walks on it's back till she reaches my shoulder. She sniffs the laptop and then lies down partial on the back of the couch and partially on my shoulder.
She's a new edition to our family. A stray with four paws and sharp claws, a rambunctious little critter. Mix Tape Girl can't really stand her but they get along still.
A few moments earlier I was lying in bed with Mix Tape Girl, talking about how we first met. How I had asked her out years ago and how she turned me down.
Me: I never thought I'd hear from you again after they laid everyone off.
MTG: Honestly I was hoping that you'd forget about me.
The answer surprises me and I turn from my lying on my back staring at the ceiling to my side facing directly at MTG.
Me: Why would I want to forget about you?
MTG: I didn't want to get your hopes up. I thought you'd find someone better. I...I..
MTG: I...didn't want an anchor.
Me: What do you mean an anchor?
MTG: I didn't mean it in a bad way. I meant..I meant that you seemed set in your ways, you worked full time, you took care of your parents, you were happy where you were. You were doing good but not really going to go anywhere else really? I just didn't know if you'd stay the same.
Me: Am I still the same?
MTG: No, you've come a long way. I just needed to be sure that if you changed you'd do it for yourself and not for me.
Me: And then a year or so later you called me out of the blue.
I hold MTG in my arms and in a matter of minutes she falls asleep. I lie in bed staring at the dark ceiling. The bedroom recently redone, the few streams of light that come out of the sides of the new room darkening curtains MTG put up last week.
Gently rolling MTG over, I get up and brush my teeth. I'm not tired now so I go downstairs and write in my forgotten blog. Though most of my friends here have migrated to Facebook, I remain here checking on postings from others from time to time.
The cat jumps down and wanders around the living room. Looking back at me from time to time to see if I'm still there. The TV's on low and How I Met Your Mother is on. Sitting back in my chair I think to myself, am I an anchor?
I tell myself that I'm not, and slowly my eyes get heavy. I finish loading new music for work to my Ipod and publish this post into the once vast and traveled seas of Blogger.
Good night friends.