Love lives in many ways, is expressed in different ways and wants nothing in return. But I see love in another way, or perspective so if they want to name.
He lives on the skin of a sly cat, that when you feel alone in a cold house, runs toward overcoming all obstacles. A wily feline
seeking his lap, his hands, his affection and attention.
Smart and agile he snuggles up to overwhelm that moment of his life. You stick, stroke, puts everything that is best at that time.
He remains there, intact, as long as necessary. And when you think the animal that was there turned into a marble statue and tries to move it in another direction. He clings to the nail stewardship and stability. Stroking his hand with his nose cold.
Exactly at this point you have already been taken by the trust, by feeling, by necessity, and even the vanity. But
pussy gets scared, or just realize that it does not satisfy him as before, and leaves as it began. Suddenly
yet astute and responsive, it drifts away from his hands, his affection rejects and ignores her call. He does not recognize as your need more room and run over, panting.
By jumping out the window, the cat did not even turn his head to tell him goodbye. He leaves, while you remain motionless and nauseating in its place.
Just because the nature of this cat does not allow the complicity required to remain there for long, or perhaps because their happiness does not deserve to live for eternity.
THE END
