You were my first ever. Though I told you this, you undoubtedly would have noticed even if I hadn’t. My general clumsiness in trying to express my love made it obvious that this was a love that I had not experienced before. Still, you always seemed to know that I meant well. You must have.
As the years went by, we got to know each other better. You learned to deal with unwanted kisses and cuddles, I learned to deal with the occasional distance between us. Some would have deemed our relationship unbalanced, but for me, it was perfect. I didn’t mind getting you breakfast or preparing your dinner. I was okay with only ever receiving love on your terms. Because through all the cold shoulders, through all the times you expressed not the slightest bit of gratitude for the effort I put into caring for you, you still were my best friend. You and I, we didn’t need any words. We could just sit together for hours, watching some terrible TV show that we would never admit to watching. We were happy together.
Now, not a moment goes by where I do not experience the deep emptiness that is your absence. The mornings, eating breakfast all by myself. The evenings, all alone on the couch. No one to cuddle up against, or discuss the latest shitty TV show with. Nothing but emptiness remains. I wish things could have been different. I wish you were still here with me, but no. You had to leave. If it really is better this way, then why does it hurt so much?
All I can do is hope that enjoyed every moment together as much as I did.
Farewell, my love. You were the best cat we could’ve wished for.