if only

I want to reincarnate as the very spoiled pet cat of a heterosexual man. That is actually my idea of the perfect relationship.

He would not try to trick me or manipulate me, he would not be interested in just my body or my ability to care take or cheerlead or try to disrupt my peace. His ego would mean nothing to me; there would be no tiptoeing around it.

Instead, he would seek me out bc I would ignore him. When I wanted attention, I would take it by stomping all over his work and interposing myself wherever was inconvenient. If it got to be too much, I'd bite or scratch his shit up, batting his head and hissing.

He would have endless patience for my broody antics, calling me affectionate nicknames like, “lil asshole" that I would gracefully ignore.

He would feed me only food I like, I'd take up whatever spot on the bed or his body I liked best and he'd sweat it out and cramp up and fall off the edge for all I care.

I'd disappear for hours, days at a time, returning when I felt like it, and he was frantic with worry.

He'd learn to rub me in ways I like best, feed me treats, bring me presents, wrap me in his hoodies, his blankets, his arms.

He'd worship me just as I am until the day I died and then he'd build a shrine to my memory, openly weeping at my grave.

Or if he died first, I'd destroy everything he owned, sometimes gently nudging it and sometimes pulling it down by force, and then eat his face.