[ WP ] Choose any object thats in the room you 're in and write as much as you can about it

I don ’ t think you know how loved you are. 
 
 When you came home with us I sat with you in the back seat, hugging your crate in an attempt to make you feel better. For the most part you were quiet, but occasionally you gave whisper of a cry in there and it broke my heart because I wanted you to know you were safe. But you ’ d only just met me and the woman you did know, your lovely foster mother, was now somewhere far, far away. I couldn ’ t blame you for being scared. 
 
 My boyfriend and I had only just moved into our apartment, so there wasn ’ t much for you there yet, but you didn ’ t seem to care. You weren ’ t in the mood for exploring. You found safety behind the washing machine and you hid there for three days. It broke my heart each night when I laid down in bed and realized this was another full day I didn ’ t get to see you, hug you, and tell you I love you. And I loved you so much but you didn ’ t let me show you. In the meantime I sat on the bathroom floor, just talking to you, wondering if you were listening or if you asleep back there. I made sure to speak quietly and use your name often, and your foster mom told me that you grew up with NPR playing in the background, so when I wasn ’ t there to talk to you I left my phone on the sink so you could listen to what I always thought stood for Nerd Public Radio. I left a little pile of food in front of the washing machine and I made sure your water bowl was there so you didn ’ t have to go far. You weren ’ t born yesterday, you weren ’ t a kitten—you needed your time and space, and as much as it killed me, I made sure to give it to you. 
 
 Then the fourth day came, and while I was sitting on the couch enjoying the last weekend before my new job started, you came out of the hallway, jumped onto the couch, and laid yourself across my belly like a blanket. I hugged you and cried, and you just stretched as far as you could and settled on your side. You let me pet the cloud that is your tummy and your heavy purrs vibrated through me like a gentle wave. This was my first experience of true love, attachment, and euphoria. I thought you, my first ever pet, would never come to love me. But there you were, enjoying the utter bliss of the love I ’ d bottled up for you for three long days. 
 
 
 We ’ ve been inseparable ever since. You ’ re always there waiting for me at the door when I come home from work, and you meow your complaints about where I ’ ve been but the stress only lasts a few seconds. Because right after I take off my shoes and coat, and you and I lay on the couch together while I hold you close against me like I did my first stuffed animal. And while you purr, I stroke your head as we watch those dumb cooking shows. We have a ritual, you and I, and I can ’ t tell which of the two of us loves it more. Personally I think I do, but I guess I ’ m a little biased. 
 
 You ’ re larger than most cats, a whopping eighteen pound Maine Coon mix, but I think you forget that sometimes. You barely fit in the cat tree I bought you but you try your damnedest to squish in there anyway. And I have to hold your head and front paws up if you want to sit on my lap, because you just can ’ t get all of yourself on there, but it ’ s ok because you let me pet your jellybean toes every time you try. You ’ re ridiculously soft and so wondrously warm; I can ’ t imagine going to bed anymore with you there under my arm, pressed against my stomach. 
 
 I cherish you and love you and look forward to the many years we have left together. Sometimes I wish I ’ d met you while you were still a kitten, but I imagine you were probably the sweetheart of the litter. But instead of dwelling on what could have been, I ’ ll just pet you while you sit beside me on the couch, snoring and dreaming of I can ’ t even imagine what. I ’ ll keep smothering you with love, and the boyfriend will do the same after he comes home from a long day of being overworked and underpaid, and we ’ ll keep kissing you on the forehead before bed. 
 
 We love you, and I really hope you know that. 

