I have observed said cat in his interactions with other people vs his interactions with me. With others, he is playful. With me, he is mean.
Harmless cat behavior modification tool...squirt bottle with a little lemon extract added to the water. Keep it near you and when psychopussy attacks, spray it in the face. Not only will this quickly correct the aggressive behavior, but the useless crap machine will smell much better. LOL
Remember when you were little, and you invented a 'dream man' for yourself? You'd have him down to the last patch of stubble on his chin? From about the age of seven, I had this image in my head of what my perfect man would be. He was dark haired, green eyed, wore glasses, was not skinny, but not too fat, intellegent, funny, a journalist and a book reading romantic. In the back of my head, all the years I grew up, the image of The Perfect Man remained. When I was twenty one, just about to turn twenty two, I was going through a period of not very employedment, which is to say, I was temping on a day to day basis in a variety of locations as required. The temping agency phoned me up one morning and asked me to head to the office of a magazine publishers in Glasgow city centre. So i trotted in, and found myself working at reception, which was ridiculously quiet. After about an hour swinging on the chair and doodling, the door opened, and in walked a guy, tall, dark haired, green eyed, handsome... down to the last patch of stubble on his chin. I could barely breathe and my grasp on the english language disappeared into a small series of squeaks and garbled vowels. He walked past me and disappeared into an office, and I wondered if he was a journalist, or just another office staff member like myself. An hour later he re-emerged and stuck his head into the office through the hatch. "Hey," he said, introducing himself. He had an irish accent, something which I'd never put onto my perfect man wishlist, but realised all along it should have been there. We chatted for what seemed like forever compressed into a few seconds (it was about fifteen minutes according to the reality of the clock) and I ascertained he was indeed a journalist there. I knew I should ask him out, I knew I should put myself forwards, and say 'Im interested in you', but I just couldn't. I was too scared to even think about putting myself up for rejection by a person who had seemingly stepped straight out of my imagination. At the end of the day, I left the office, waving goodbye to Mr Perfect. I told myself that if it was meant to be, we would meet again. Two days later, my agency phoned me again, and asked me to return to the place. I took it as a sign, and made myself look very presentable. Again, Mr Perfect comes over to speak to me, but this time it was to tell me he'd be out his office all day. "But here," he said in his irish lilt. "You can borrow this book to read if you want." It was 'A history of Ukranian Tractors'. I read it, and it was actually quite good. At the end of the day, I had to put it back on his desk, and I felt a surge of bravery. Tearing off a sheet of paper from the notebook at reception, I scribbled a message. 'Hey, thanks for lending me the book. It'd be nice to see more of you. Here's my number' and I stuck it in the book. Days passed, and I wondered if he had found the book, or indeed if it was just sat there, being ignored, or if he just wasn't interested. And then I got a text message on my phone. 'Hi," it read. "I just found your message. Fancy going out for a drink this weekend?" I was completely and utterly head over heels in love. I would have willingly died for him. We went out to the cinema, to art galleries, to pubs, restaurants... he was a gentleman, and when it came to sleeping with him, which I did after about a month, it was earth shattering. Nothing I've had since even comes close to how I felt about him, both in and out of the bedroom. It should have been perfect. It was, after all, the stuff of fairytales and magic. But of course, life isn't like that, is it? I decided one night that it was high time he met my friends, so invited them out with us. I had popped outside the club for a ciggie with one of my friends, and had come back, and was so sure I'd just seen him lock lips with my best friend. Sure of it. But my other friend told me to stop thinking nonesense. That evening we went back to his, and as he and I were making cups of tea for everyone, he turned to me, and said "I'm completely in love with your best friend. We kissed." Even to this day, I can still feel the wrench inside my stomach as he told me this. I put down the mug and walked out of the kitchen, stared at my best friend and said "Why didn't you tell me he'd kissed you?" and then calmly walked out of the flat and went home. I understood then how it was possible to die of a broken heart. I sat in my room for four days straight, not able to sleep, because every time I closed my eyes, I saw him and her together. Ii couldn't eat, because every time I ate a mouthful of food, I felt the sickness in my stomach well up like a fire. In the end, I took myself off to the doctor and he had me placed in an institution for a night, 'just to get a break'. If that is love, I never want to experience it again.
That was heart-wrenching. God just reading it made me ache, I can't begin to estimate how much it would have really hurt. *huggles* This may sound futile at the moment, but sweetheart, whatever happens, happens for the best. If he didn't catch you, he wasn't meant for you. Think of it this way. Wasn't he a weak-willed man? You had been lovers and all, still in a relationship, and he just went on and acted on first impressions for your friend? What's to guarantee that tommorrow he won't do the same thing on her? But I know, this is easy to say, but when you suffer through it, rationality doesn't come that easily. There's another "perfect man" out there for you. But this time, don't go on the image of YOUR perfect man. Go for a man who's perfect for you. Don't let one bad experience make the decision of a lifetime for you. There's a soulmate for everyone and how he suddenly drops into your life, and makes past your defences, you never know. But, before you're aware of that fact, he'll make you his and have you swollen footed. Open up your defences. And remember, just because one friend of yours backstabbed you, doesn't necessarily mean the rest of them are the same too. Don't shy away from your girlfriends at anytime....they can be priceless. I know I live in a fantasy world sometimes, and that I have some Identity Disorder too, I've been told many times....but sometimes looking into the future with a hopeful mind is better than letting past grievances rule us. Don't let one stumble keep you from winning the race. *huggles* And if you ever need to talk to an impersonal stranger, I'm always here. Feel free to PM me.
Haha thanks for the tip! I've had a couple people suggest a squirt bottle, but never heard to add the lemon extract. I think I need to go get a squirt bottle, because using it to spray Stripes sounds fun. God, my heart just fell for you. Neha is right though-do you really want to be with someone who would just turn around and throw everything away like he did? That's a horrible thing to do to someone. I'm sorry that happened to you.
I met my hubby through College. I was standing in one of the lecture rooms looking out the window and I saw him walking across the bridge towards the building. At that stage, I only knew his name. But as I watched him I had this strange feeling and I said to myself, "I'm going to marry that man someday." I wasn't a creepy stalker either! He started flirting with me heaps and we wrote love notes to each other in class....I know, I know. Sappy. And 18 months later we got married. We celebrate our 4th wedding anniversary in a week. Wait for it..........."AWWWWW......"
*applauds to you* ^ Being thirteen, I'm not qualified to post such a tale, but perhaps I'll get back to this thread in fifteen or so years?
I met the first man I loved when I was 14 and he was 16. It was autumn. I was waiting for my ride to pick me up. First day I met him, he gave me his coat and waited with me for my ride. I knew hew was a gentleman. I also had this feeling that we would be something. Well...that is all a long story. Suffice it to say we are both married to other people now, but we still talk almost every day. How I met my husband is a classic geek story. We met playing Dungeons and Dragons. We slayed a blue dragon (Not an adult..that would have killed our low level characters) before we went on out first date. My sister and her then boyfriend arranged the game so we could meet. We had no idea it was a set-up. He opened the door and I went..."oooh he's cute." He opened the door and thought "Ooh, she's cute. I bet we will be great friends." He was completely dense that I was attracted to him. After all my flirting, my..oops my bra broke...I guess I'll have to go take it off...my nipples show through my t-shirt..how embarrassing ...tee hee "subtle" attempts at getting his attention, I finally just straight up asked him out. I planted the first kiss on him too. At least he finally asked me to marry him. I was going to give him till June...he asked in April. Out cake topper at the wedding was two pewter dragons to commemorate how we met. It will be 4 years married in September. Thanks Dana. I owe you.
I know this is like 11 pages late, but I would like to thank the OP for using the term 'Significant Other' to include everyone of all persuasions.
