Patches has been hiding under my bed less and less. He’s more comfortable with his surroundings now, but not quite accustomed to Dolly’s aggressive play-fighting. He thinks that she’s attacking him, so he’ll just growl and run away. I’ve gotten him to be more relaxed by giving him catnip. He’ll start rubbing against me every time he smells it, and when he eats some he does a few kitty break dancing moves. Sometimes it looks like he’s trying to windmill into a stall, but I think those are his only moves.

Dolly has lately been sleeping under the rugs. Nick and I will think that she’s missing until we see a large lump in the living room rug. It’s pretty frustrating because every time I straighten it out, she’ll just dig underneath it and mess it all up again.

One thing that she’s been doing for a while is sleeping on things to mark them. Every time someone brings a bag or jacket into my room, the first thing she’ll do is sniff it out then sleep on it, which I personally see as a viable alternative to urination.

Aaron brought Patches over Monday night, and he’s been staying under my bed for most of the time. The tent that he has is sort of his security blanket; he’ll hide in there whenever he wants to be alone. Dolores is a little wary of his presence, and she’ll follow him just to keep track of where he is most of the time. So far, it’s just a few hisses and growls, since Dolly seems to want to test Patches with challenges, while Patches just groans. Sometimes it sounds like stock cars making a turn at Daytona when they growl out of sync.

I finally printed off my picture of the glasses on the sill and framed it, which is quite something considering the fact that I have barely any decorations in my room. I was lucky enough to have been given a nice metal frame as a Christmas gift a few years ago, but have not had a decent picture to put in it. Since I don’t have a career going yet, I try to keep a minimalistic amount of furniture until I can afford to invest in long term sets, and for now the picture rests on my coffee table. I wanted a physical manifestation of the image because of the poignancy it evokes in me.

Every time I look at it I can’t help but think of the morning sun seeping through the cracks of blue venetian blinds, of the flourish of green leaves outside the window. I think of lying on a swollen bed with my back to the wall, noticing the brightness of the sun fill the room, talking well past the break of day. I think of sleeping next to someone, holding her head, drawing on her face, seeing the early light bring out the sunflowers in her eyes. I remember how we’d go to sleep, placing our frames on the windowsill before succumbing to exhaustion.

Perhaps I’m so affected by this image, this bittersweet memory, because of how much I relish the act of sleeping next to someone. One of my favourite parts of a relationship is being able to hold someone before losing consciousness. I suppose it betrays a vulnerability, a certain unparalleled intimacy, and vulnerability is something that I’ve always been attracted to.

But how odd it is that this may mean so much to me, yet mean so little to another. That even someone sharing this experience with me may think of it in passing, as some ephemeral experience, not worth remembering.

What do we take with ourselves when we fall apart? Do we keep the memories or the emotions? Do we only take the good and leave the bad?

With this picture I try to take everything. I don’t want to hide from hurt, I don’t want to neglect any feelings. I choose to see the image as a beautiful thing, a frame in time when I felt something greater than most things I’ve felt in my life. I try to turn the pain into productivity and gain from my experience. I look at this picture and become affected by everything it means to me.

Even if it means nothing to anyone else.

I bought another chain today.

It’s darker and has a grungier style, due to the fact that it’s matte instead of polished and looks as if it’s been industrially worn, although it’s hard to tell from the photo. I purchased it so I could wear a chain with my more formal clothes, since it’s less prominent. I’m rarely without a chain no matter what I wear, just because I feel naked without one now. I had to explain that to John when I wore it under my blazer to his fathers’ second wedding. Thank god this new one was on sale, because I felt pretty guilty buying something many times more expensive than my current $2 dog leash.

It’s barely long enough; I prefer very droopy chains. Actually, I don’t think it’s meant to droop so much, I just don’t have the large Caucasian male ass that I think it was meant for.