August 9, 2018
Day 1, 591
From Birth Men Born Males Only, No Trans, No Skirt Wearing Fairies, No Gay. No Women Allowed. I Am the Only Woman.
As I am completely unable to understand the purpose, the point, and the reason for my life these years, I do not apologize for the exclusions.
Since the last thing I want to do is clean endlessly, clean my house, do dishes, or vacuum I am holding off until the last possible moment.
For it is the last time we meet here, you and I, we will never see each other again in person. Not ever. What was once found is not sustainable in this way, in this life. I will never willingly go to you again. You failed to understand how bad it is for me – here and now.
It is a cool day, we are indoors. We greet each other with kisses on the cheek as if we are old friends. You are the same handsome, good-looking man wearing a belt with your pants as I have never been a woman who ever looked at a man with his ass hanging out of his pants. With my hair and makeup done making men want to know more about me because of how I look, I wear a dress that clings to my skin it doesn’t take long to notice I have no panty lines. You notice the shape of my bosom at my age does not hang down. It looks as if I could choke on them if I laid down with my head unelevated. As I walk in, you wonder how many men have imagined me wearing only the boots I am wearing because I am so thin and sexually desirable. You have never seen me look better.
We share a slice of boysenberry pie and coffee because I no longer remember what that tastes like. In the past we would each have had a slice that time is gone at the moment. And, you let me talk. You listen.
Telling you about all the bad dates, I’ve had. The one in Orlando that felt so wrong to me, I told my brother where I was going, so that if something happened to me someone would know where I last was because I could not understand what was wrong there. How the first thing I asked him in person was his age, how he tried to take me back to his place and I refused because something was so terribly wrong yet made no sense.
How Murphy stands with his tail so tall, it is longer than his body, straight up in the air with just the bit at the end that turns left to right, left to right as if he thinks from his tail…what to do? Run and fly through the air because Cherith likes it? Roll on the floor like the picture Cherith has in her head of Thursday back in January 2015 when she was feeling so bad, he walked over to her to make her feel better, stretching out in front of her, in front of the verticals? Play with a toy to make Cherith laugh and feel better? Run and play with Maurice? How Murphy has the most spectacular eyes of such unusual color and size for his body.
How Maurice has discovered how much fun it is to play with the feather toy. Knocking the bird out of the air.
How Lambert talks and talks and talks every morning. How Lambert is the gorgeous one. How he guards every doorway when I move from room to room. How he looks so much like a sphinx, however, not like any sphinx I’ve ever seen with his paws crossed in front of him, his chest up, his head held in such a way, noble, calm, serene, although he is only a moment away from being lethal. He is the protector of all. How he is one of the fastest cats bringing the feathered toy to the ground.
How it is not only Maurice that follows me from room to room. How Maurice, Lambert, and Murphy are so much happier when I am home because my house is such a lonely place.
How Thursday used to sit in front of my yoga mat every time I exercised, putting his paws on it, playing with it as though he wanted and was happy to be with me in this way. How I used to put him in another room, so I could get the work-out done.
How I used to play a version of hide and seek with Tuesday and Thursday, running after me. How they thought that was so much fun. Run, run, run after to me, then look up to me…do we do it correctly? Goody! Let’s do it again!
How, Thursday went running out of the house I used to have, got stuck in a tree and I had to get a ladder to get him down.
How I love the legs on Maurice, Lambert, and Murphy. And, Thursday.
How Maurice is the all-meat boy, he is nothing but pure meat and when he runs I giggle at his fur coat that falls away from his body when he trots. How the paws on Maurice are so adorably rounded he could never be anything but the stable, handsome, provider of a husband if he were to marry.
How Lambert is pure muscle. Long, lean muscle legs with fea-v-ers (feathers) at his back haunch.
How Murphy’s legs are so nicely shaped and sized, he too has short fea-v-ers (feathers) on his haunches.
I just want to take each of them and gnaw and gum on their gorgeous legs. I just love them so.
How I wonder who was the person who told my brother to buy me Cleopatra and Lawrence of Arabia DVD’s now?
It is time for us to leave now. You try to tell me about your feelings. But, I remind you that you never cared for me, you never loved me. There has always been another woman and women. You never loved me enough. That if there was a time for us it has been too many years and too long ago gone and lost to ever be again. You know it to be true.
So, we never meet again.
WE - DO NOT AGREE! 