I generally think that stewing around in the past and trying to figure it all out is annoying and unproductive. That being said, this week I've spent a good amount of time stewing around in the past and trying to figure it all out. And to what past have I been visiting? College.
There was one person in particular (we'll call him Z, for no reason at all since there is no Z in his name) that in retrospect, I completely misunderstood. He was so good to me and I was just sort of blind. I've never told this story before this week, but I'm going to get it off my chest on my blog. Here goes.
So this guy in college accidentally let his cat out and she came back pregnant. There were five kittens, 4 boys and 1 girl. Everyone was visiting the kittens and quickly they all had pending homes among friends, including my roommate. When my roommate at the time brought home her baby kitten, Miles, he was super sweet and we loved him. I already had a cat, Juno, who was sort of a giant bitch. (Juno later went to live with a friend who later also got rid of her...don't judge, this cat was from hell.) I was super jealous of my roommates kitten. She told me there was one kitten left, the girl, but that she had been claimed by Z. I called the cat owner to find out more and he said that while Z had indeed claimed her, he had no idea when or if he was going to come get her. I said I could take the cat off his hands in 30 minutes. We drove over and picked her up. When I brought her home she snuggled right in with her brother, you've never seen anything more adorable in your life. Bitchy Juno looked on.
Under an hour later, Z called explaining that he had been out buying all the supplies for the kitten that very night, that he still wanted her and she was rightfully his. I said, "Well, I'm sorry but she's already here." He argued that he had long ago told the cat owner he was going to adopt her and asked if he could please come pick her up from me. "No." I said. "She's mine." And that was the last time I ever spoke to Z.
And that little kitten was Lucy.
So now the whole world knows. Lucy is stolen goods. It was maybe the bitchiest phone call I'd ever had. I have no idea what came over me. I mean, I sort of do...there's some backstory between Z and I that I'm not going to get in to here. But what I remember most is thinking that what I was saying was perfectly legitimate. That it was completely fine to waltz in and steal someone's cat from under their nose. I had totally blocked that part of Lucy's history out of my head until this Christmas. I've been in this tailspin all week remembering this one particular person and uncovering all these memories where I was naive or misinformed and basically realizing that the experiences I've been remembering don't entirely jive with the reality of the experiences themselves. I like to detail the stories of all the things that have been put upon me in my life...but I flat out repress all the things I've done to other people. After shamefully realizing more and more each day this week how good this person was to me and what a bitch I was to him...I'm nearly exhausted.
So that's how it's going to be, huh? Thanks, Ghost of Christmas Past.
Z...if you are out there somewhere and somehow are reading this...I'm sorry I stole your cat. But I don't totally regret it since she's been my hilarious little fatty for the last nine years. Yeah, that's all. I'm sorry for stealing your cat...and for a lot of other stuff too.
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