at long last love has arrived

We met two Easters ago, while I visited home from Grove City on Spring Break. He was new to the neighborhood, and we hit it off the moment we saw each other. We spent some time hanging out, and I introduced him to my parents, who had seen him around but never formally met him. As he had no family or friends in Erie, my parents took him under their wing while I went back to college and eventually moved to South Bend. I made it a point to see him whenever I came back to town. Visiting him always made me ecstatic, and for his part he always seemed pleased that I was home (he's not a man of many words, but he communicates effectively nonetheless. It's a surprisingly good combination).

This past Thanksgiving everyone sat down for some discussions. I'm lonely in South Bend and while he is generally a little reserved, he loves me and always has, and Erie really has nothing for him. Plus it was crowded and noisy where he was living, and he needs some space and some quiet. (Finally, someone who appreciates my space and quiet!) Mom and Dad thought he was right for me, and so they helped us get set up for him to move to South Bend. He came back with me right after Christmas (the drive back was distracting, I can tell you!) and moved into my apartment. It's a lot smaller than what he's used to, but for the time being we're making it work, and he's not a complainer, which I certainly appreciate.

I didn't think it would make much of a difference, really -- I was only a little annoyed, to be honest, at the thought of having to share my bed. But everything is indescribably wonderful. In the morning he cuddles me awake; after work we romp around the apartment (so far no complaints from the neighbors) and I laugh at his antics; in the evenings we curl up together on the couch to watch TV (he's remarkably tolerant of Buffy and Angel). And going to sleep at night is so much warmer.

It makes all the difference in the world, having someone to come home to. I can't take two steps anywhere without him coming to cuddle and tell me how glad he is that I'm around. It's so nice to have someone to touch. And we don't have to talk all that much; it's enough to be in the same room with him. He knows when to leave me alone, and when to snuggle. He's perfect (except for his insistent demands to be fed. He can't cook to save his life). He's the sole reason I haven't been blogging lately; I love spending time with him too much even to talk about it to the blogosphere.

Marianne likes him tremendously, and even Meg says he's not that bad. It helps that he's extraordinarily good-looking, and charming to boot.

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I have a cat. And everything is changed.