On Cats

The other day,
I mentioned that I didn't want children.
I'd rather have a cat.
My mother said,
"you have so much of yourself to give to a child."
And while, I agree with her,
you can't give a cat morals
or teach it that skipping out on taxes is bad
I don't want to do that.
I can't give anyone any part of me
because I am not whole yet.
I'm still branching out,
a small weed breaking through concrete into light
and you know,
cats have their pluses.
They won't knock something over AND pair it with a passive aggressive phrase.
And really,
it's the small things.
The nose bumps
the tail swish
the look that says "I love you, but I don't know what you want from me"
and it's so simple
I just want it to exist and to love me.
I don't fill my head with the idea
that a child is unconditional
because I wasn't one for unconditional love
and I wonder if my mother regrets it.
I can forgive a cat
if it dislikes me
because it can't tell me it hates me.
I can't make the same mistakes
and forget to tell my cat
that skipping out on taxes is bad
or that sex isn't good or bad, it just is
I can't make the same empty promises
like unconditional acceptance
even if the cat ends up being gay.
It's all the small things.
And no, you can't impart wisdom on a cat
but they can make you wiser
just with the small things.