It was a cold Friday, which due to the pandemic I was forced to be locked up in the apartment, limiting my life to watching TV, and the few times I went out to the balcony to see the city and how people walk quickly to their jobs.
It had been a long time since I had seen my relatives, but this situation had separated me from everyone, and turned me into one of those people who only live waiting for the day of their death.
It had already been a long time, and I didn't know what to do, I saw every day further away from ending this, and I felt that every day I was moving further away, and I was closing myself more, in a world that my mind had created, where only I could be.
Every week I would go out to shop for the food I needed to survive all those days, and then I would not have to go out again.
And it was already a routine that I totally knew how it would be, it never failed, because I didn't even want it to.
But on the way back home I found a box at the door from which only meowing came out. I could say that I never liked them, but I didn't know what it was like to have a cat, I grew up in a family where my mother claimed to be allergic to cats just not to have one of them.
I couldn't leave them outside, so I took the box and brought them inside the house. I wasn't sold on the idea of having animals, so I was looking for a place to give them up for adoption, and as I made the call to give them up I remembered a bit of the past, how ironic life was.
We will always have what we want, but it won't always be when we want it.
It will always be like this, not long ago I was a 12 year old boy, wishing I lived just to have the pets I wanted and be happy and now here I am at 27, thinking how much I would like to go back to the past to be happy, as I really didn't consider this to be the best time of my life.
Little by little I was thinking about the determination I had as a child, and cats represented that which I wanted so much, that freedom, that tranquility, and independence. But now 15 years later I feel like a person in his own home. So many unfinished things, that now that I think about it made me doubt who I really was as a person, since I am not the quarter of me that I was at the time. I remembered every time I fell to the floor and got up, every time I had a problem and managed to take my mind off it.
Each time I felt that more real, more alive. My mind was not moving away from reality and little by little this earthly plane was detaching from me. And I felt those memories as if they were reality.
Why do you hate cats? I asked
I don't hate them honey, they are just aggressive animals and they make me allergic to them. My mother answered
I could see that moment, and it kept repeating over and over again! I was a happy person who wanted something that my family made impossible for me to obtain. And each time it filled me with more and more hatred.
Suddenly I felt a purr on my foot, and when I managed to lower my head there was that cat I had rescued minutes before, its purr was enough to know that I didn't have to wait any longer to enjoy what life has to offer.
We will always have whims, but only the universe knows when to give us the opportunity to enjoy what we want so much at some point in our lives. Life is about obstacles, falls, and losses, because otherwise it would be very simple and would have lost its meaning.