Two-factor authentication is important in relationships. You want the initial smile when you meet. You listen for the purr.
The cats are obviously transforming me into a cat. Now I listen for purrs. In their lives I’m like this Totoro character who brings food, warmth, and inevitable “pickups” from time to time when I relish the purr feedback loop between us. Sometimes they don’t purr they simply allow and bask. One flex and I put them back down with a pat. Most of the time, the purr begins even before I’ve picked them up, like an enticement or a prayer. Occasionally, there is no purr. In those moments, I think we are just being loving.
Wading into the murky waters of dating again, I have begun to listen for the purr. What activities are lighting this person up? What dreams are they articulating? Even their online dating profile has clues. I was interested by a profile picture and explored their words. These were my anti-purr words. Thrifting. Happy Hours. Reality Shows. No purr from me.
More than purrs the cats bring limited conversation, infinite cuddles, and ongoing complaints, spills, and occasional indifference. I think we need all of this in healthy relationships between humans. And the purr is the language that I’m starting to seek out. What makes them purr? What activities and daily routines give them joy? I know mine. I want to listen for their joy. Purr.
I’ve had a lot of cat cuddles. A few vacation days with my daughter, road-tripping, skiing in Colorado, and spending time hanging out. I began to prompt my own brain about the time together. Am I seeking something, would I be happy with something, more platonic? Would I be fulfilled in my quest for “shared experiences” if we didn’t share everything?
In the case of my daughter, yes. In my mental inquiry about the future, no. I want it all. Sure, I can get various parts of my life and ego stroked in other communities. Tennis friends give me lots of praise. Other artists are encouraging and full of their own purrs. I don’t need community from my partner. Well, it’s a different community, this idea of THE TWO OF US, that I am harboring. Crafting. Reimagining.
I would not be happy… Wait. Stop.
This is the wrong angle. My happiness is not dependent on a partner. It was not dependent on cats. It is not dependent on sex. Let’s reframe.
I want to share my purr with one other person. I special purr. A deeper understanding, connection, and future. I have come to understand that, for me, everyone is THE ONE. Until they are not. I sort of set myself up for this several years ago when I was dating a fabulously disoriented scientist from the University of Texas. She didn’t want a relationship. She did want to play tennis and fuck occasionally. Perhaps, for her, at that moment, it was all she could handle. Her protestations, however, taught me a new level of my own vision quest.
“I don’t want to be in a relationship,” she said on the back porch of her rented house. She’d recently, within four or five years, relocated from Oklahoma.
“Oh,” I replied. “I think I’m different.”
Over the course of the entire relationship arc, about three months, we fucked and played tennis and broke up multiple times. She kept repeating her mantra. I began to formulate mine.
“I don’t want to date someone who is not a LTR possibility.”
She gave me this lesson. I don’t want great sex and conversation. She had that. I don’t want a tennis partner who can outrun me. (Though that is nice.) I don’t need an artist, writer, creative person. But, I do need someone who is ALL IN.
I think that’s how my intention evolved after my Dr. love affair. She was amazing. Dysfunctional. Too traumatized by her divorce and ongoing co-parenting slog to contemplate what “relationship” meant for her. She didn’t want a relationship. She just wanted a cat.
I walked away from her with a new mandate. LTR or bust.
Today, I’m not as clear on my goals and intentions. Marriage? No idea. Lifetime partner? Um, yeah, but…
It’s more about the moment, the present, the now. Here’s what I came to understand about myself, and even why I’m here, alone, now.
I want my forever person. I have a dream of beaches, sunsets, growing old and stronger in our love and devotion. And, intentionally, over the last three relationships, I committed to the YES. I was ALL IN.
I have learned and evolved each time I’ve devoted myself to a partner. I’ve learned at the end that I could survive without them. I learned on the way to and from Colorado, that I don’t want a traveling companion, I want a lover. I want to be all in. I attach well. I evolve. My partner has to grow and evolve with me or we will get out of sync.
What I learned, what I needed to learn, from my last partner, was the joy of a securely attached relationship. There were no doubts about our intentions and our commitment.
What went wrong?
There was also no evolution.
Could I have spotted the problems in the early weeks of our courtship? Yes. Did I speak up and give direction when I needed things to move up the consciousness/connectivity scale? Yes. And then, we both went along adapting and being and loving and feeling good. There were tons of purrs. There were even two dogs on her side, who brought me infinite dog kisses. They too taught me a lesson.
I don’t want a dog. They are demanding. They never have their own ideas for what to do for fun. And their loyalty can become a liability. These particular dogs would come unhinged at anyone walking down the neighborhood street. A frenzy of barking in harmony. Sometimes this was cute. Sometimes it was jarring. When I came back to my house, it was calm. There was no explosive barking. I didn’t want a dog-style partner. I wanted more of a cat.
Cats have their own thing going on. They’re either Buddhists or assholes, but they definitely appear to have their own agenda. The engagement model is different. And, they don’t bark, they purr.
In many ways, I treat my cats the way I want to be treated.
Have something going on, focused, and intense? Awesome. Want to come snuggle up to me on a Winter night as I lower the temperature in the house? Yay. I learned from my girlfriend’s dogs that I don’t want a dog. I love dogs. My daughter’s dog was certainly happy to see me yesterday when I helped move a dresser into the new apartment. He needs a male rough-houser like me, but that fellow is not in the picture yet. The new journey of adulthood is just beginning for my RN daughter. Yay.
Time and patience. Impatience, even if described as enthusiasm is a turnoff. Too much YES and it feels fake, forced, or off. I have a tendency of overshare. I need to undershare. Give time a chance to catch up. A lot has changed in my life and the world. What emerges in my life is up to me, no one else.
Until I’ve found that someone else, and then everything changes. My physical chemistry changes. I want, crave, and look forward to, cuddles, kisses, and hot sex. All of my spirit and body is ready. My mind has a few more questions before we get started up the hill of life again. The hill of love. The hill of finding your forever person.
If that’s too much to contemplate, then, just the forever NOW person.
In my last partnership, I was loved. I was IN. I was engaged.
I was dissatisfied.
At certain points along the journey, however, my partner was showing me their appreciation, giving me their time, their body, their oneness. We were one. Connected. There were alignment issues, but those could be addressed over time.
They were not addressed, or if they were, in a way that did not foster greater alignment. Our purr began happening less frequently. I learned what alone time meant to me again.
Now, I live with two cats. She was allergic.
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