He was the bounciest cat there was. He could have been breasts in his past life. But his body was lifeless as his dying eyes looked at me. It broke my heart, Sweet Nuts, it really did. He died twenty minutes after By came home. Now if you're still with me, Dearly Beloved, By is the dude that meant to break up with me if he cannot recruit me to his religion. Anyway.
Prince was our biologically-impossible make-believe kid, my Dearly Beloved Sweet Nuts. I had him when I was still living in with Five-Years-J, or he had us, whatever. I gained custody over him when we broke up. This was in November 2010.
I was disengaged (which is nerd talk for single) for almost a year, I think, following that nuclear break up. The best thing about that one year hiatus was Prince and I, we got real close for some reason. I don't know what it is about the break up, but I remember Prince cuddling to me every single night. He usually slept below the bed, but he humored my summons with prompt agility.
The lights were out, which is the custom, and he would yawn to my face, for that is his custom, and I would curse at him for being such a poser. "What fucking breeding are you walking about, Cat? What's with the goddamn smell of digested Purina, Cat? I cannot see your bearing in the dark now can't I, Cat? Come here and put your head on my shoulders. Come here! I'm tired."
He doesn't meezer much, which is a Siamese's equivalent of meowing, when we are in bed. He just lets me hug him and pet him and squeeze him and call him names. I remember stroking that pair of hairy pendulums that was his face. And I'll pull him softly towards me so I can whisper his name "Priiiince" to his lips along with the many colorful endearments he allowed. I especially like cupping his little cheeks in between my thumbs and then running my fingers along the length of his whiskers, and he has no whiskers on his... oh wait, shit. I'm holding his hairy cat nuts, and I wouldn't know any different for the lights were out and kept his mouth shut because he's funny like that.
This was the kind of stunt he'd pull of anytime now if he didn't die in 2013. Prince saw me through break ups like this with his strange sense of humor. And I really miss him now. I could use a laugh.
Wait, no, let me take that back. Stay dead, Prince, and I love you. The Ex's premise was funny enough and will answer. He's breaking up with me because I'm not letting him recruit me into his religion. He thinks he can save me, "Kaya kitang iligtas, By," but he knows I'm stubborn so he had to ask again.
"Byyy... please? If you really loved me everyday for these past two years, you will understand that I have to recruit you. And you will let me, because that's what lovers do, right? It's either you join my religion, or we'll call it quitsNO, I'M GOOD. I'm okay with my Roman Catholic thing. Really." Human combustion has nothing on this kind of spontaneity.
He said, "Okay, if that's what you want. Mag-yosi ka na nga lang. Parang pinagtatawanan mo lang ako eh. (Go light up a cigarette. You sound like you're laughing at me.)" His lips fell silent but his trembling was shouting in its eloquence.
TO BE CONTINUED, HAHA! I'M TELLING A STORY ABOUT A BREAK UP THAT HAPPENED IN THE LITTLE SPACE OF THIRTY MINUTES. I'M ENLARGING IT IN THREE POSTS. MUAHNESS FROM PASIG CIREHHH!
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