Bella

It is not unusual to find someone who loves you, it is, however, rare to find that love without expectations. 

My weekends begin with her arrival. She would ring the bell to which I would instantly climb out of my bed to welcome her in. I would make tea and sit by the door, the warm liquid waking up my senses while she walked around the house before plopping down next to me.
As I gently stroked her hair, she would stare out of the door. Her big hazel eyes longing for something out of reach, like a prisoner in her own body waiting for a door to unlatch. Our mornings like these were quiet and placid. We talked less but said more in between these conversations.
Although it seems only yesterday, I first met Bella a few months ago. I returned home after work one day and found her sprawled like a royal, right before my front door. I have not been much of a feline person in my life, so when she hollered warning me not to hop over her into my apartment door, I unwittingly dropped my pursuit mid-flight. From that point on, no amount of cajoling and sweet talk helped her move. I gave up effortlessly after a long day and retreated to the ground across her. We stayed put for an entire hour glowering at each other until her human came and rescued me.
That is how the showdown happened with my neighbor’s cat, whose family recently moved to an apartment next to mine.

Bella is a Siamese cat, actually named Mimi by her human. Yet, the name Bella suited her aptly for she would ring the tiny bell around her neck quite liberally, at times to intimate her arrival and the other times to scrape away an itch or two. A short-haired, large ball of fur who looked fierce on the outside with her sharp talons and a gaze she could continue to hold.

We started on the wrong foot and our ensuing meetings were more for establishing territories. Whenever I opened my front door for fresh air, she used to walk, regally into my house while we strived to position ourselves out of the other’s way. I used to rant about my day and she attended to it with no apparent interest.

With every visit, she spent more time than the last and as days passed by, we surprisingly got used to each other's presence. Both in the living room and our mundane lives. If I have to pin all of this into a single moment that changed our dynamic, it would be one lazy that afternoon. The afternoon when she nestled closer but at a safer distance from me, with her paw slightly kissing my feet.
She was sleepy but wary of my company, she kept an eye open for a lookout. With each clock tick, her eyelids drooped slowly. Unable to resist the growing invisible weight, she gave in to the imminent dreams. The moment she dozed off, it occurred to me that this was the first time I was chosen by a cat. I admit, her trusting me meant more to me than her.

Now that I found out her family moved, the absence of her bell's tingling reminds me more of her silent presence. I have envisioned my life with a pet someday but never pictured it with a cat. 

Now it is ominous to think I could live without one around.