When she wraps herself up on my bed, looking at me while I work, I can see in her a curiosity for what I am doing, as I am curious upon her. She pads over to my computer on silent paws, and studies the screen for hours on end. Can she read my writing? I do not know. But I know that she reads my heart. There is no one else that might comfort me as she does. A silken cheek pressed against mine - and my tears caught upon her fur. A cat’s purr is a song of delight and comfort. It reaches into your soul and pushes the pain away. I see the worry in her eyes, and I feel her reaching out for me. She knows me. Her eyes flash darkly when my heart stirs for another. Ah, I have seen it happen. Seen her lie jealously staring at whomever has caught my fancy at the moment. Like I feel my heart twist when she bestows her attention upon others. But we both know that it is temporary - we both know that there is no need for competition. Boys? They are but boys. Not one of them would I trade my cat for. Not one of them could take dear Allis’ place. She’s my everything. They are but temporary. Some of them realise this. Some know that there is no need to compete with her, because they will lose. She knows it, I know it, and if they are wise, they know it too.