It's been a while since I've been here. I can't really explain it, but I feel it through my bones: this is the place I've been looking for, all this time. The soft smell of rain, the wet ground and the green of the parks' grass that I've cross to come here, all of these things remind me of before. To me it seems so long ago, but I'm not sure how much time has passed in reality. I'm still way too young to impose in a fight or catch anything big, so I guess it was just a few seasons ago.

Almost an eternity.

I wander through the streets, keeping myself off the way to avoid all those people walking around, almost as aimlessly as me. Was it always like this? My memories are full of colors, of laughing people and of fresh food, and all I see now is the grey of the walls, the grey of their faces turned to the ground. I wonder if the magic has gone away since I left; a few seasons are a big deal sometimes. The tide always turns, and I had hoped it would turn for the better in here.

I guess you can't always be right.

But there are still colors somewhere, I know it. The bright, bright colors of the clothes hanging in the garden, of the flowers growing everywhere like a mattress of petals, of his eyes shining like crystals. I know those eyes, I know them by heart: it's them who led me here. And I'm more than determined to find them, believe me.

At a corner, a big puddle of water makes me come to a halt and I walk around cautiously, more or less determined to stay dry for the rest of my trip. Until now, I managed to find a shelter every time the rain would fall, like last night when I found a nice open barn to sleep in. I know that I'm not as clean as I should be, even if I wash a bit everyday. It becomes more and more difficult to remain as clean as before, especially with the long walk, but if I get wet, I'm not sure he will be very pleased to see me. So, to be on the safe side… I stay away from water.

The houses all look the same, empty shops and tired women sitting on benches have become part of the scenery and I still wonder what happened. Maybe the loss of my innocence is what happened, when I think about it. I was born here, a little nothing in the immensity of this city, and everything was fabulous to me. Every drop, every insect was like the most interesting thing of the world, and I remember how much time I've spent playing with every little creature I met. Nowadays, what can't be eaten is of no interest; I can't afford to lose any more time, not with my ongoing mission.

I need to find him.

I can't say anyone was sad to see me leave, but they did jump on the occasion to mock me and my stupid dreams. “Nobody can find his way back there” or “Do you really think he'll have waited for you?” are the only things they thought useful to say, and I chose to ignore them. Living with them with no aim, no other distraction than surviving, was not what I wanted. Not after having known what I had, the warmth of his hands, the sound of his voice and the perfume of his body, always mixed with fruits, bread and spring. I could never forget this, and I never want to; what I want is to find him, and I will.

It was around here, somewhere.

I turn a couple more times, checking the gardens, scratching the plaster of the walls and hoping I will recognize his house. Our house. I was welcome there, like I've never been anywhere else since then. I felt safe, I felt loved, and even my mother didn't care as much about me than he did. For her, I was just another member of the family, but for him, I was his favorite: the one he had breakfast with, the one baking in the sun with him in the weekend, the one he shared his bed with.

I was the one for him, like he is the one for me. And I need to get him back, before he forgets all about me.

Around the corner, the smell of fresh laundry catch my attention and I hurry a little in this direction. It's not as if he did it everyday, but sometimes, when he hanged out his clothes or the bed linen, this sweet smell of soap and flowers would spread inside the house. I remember afternoons spent lying in the garden, shaded by the laundry, to read or sleep together. And this smell, now… it's almost it.

Almost there.

The ground becomes softer, away from the main streets, where fresh earth replaces the grey pavement, and I sneak through the yards to find the source of the smell. I feel my heart beating faster suddenly, and the light of hope shining again in my eyes. I know I will be disappointed if I'm wrong, but it's the best shot I had in weeks, and I can't help myself but thinking he's here, waiting for me. Tricking me with fresh laundry. My love.

When I see the white sheets slowly floating in the wind, I gradually slow down, aware that my energy won't let me go much farther. The grass is slightly damp, flattening itself to accommodate me, and I keep humming the air, trying to dissociate all the odors that reach me. Fresh grass, fresh laundry, green tomatoes, sage… then something else, something like skin and sweat, something barely familiar.

“I hate when it's so windy… hey, look!”

A pair of eyes stare at me like I'm an alien and I struggle not to show any defiance. This is a woman, not him, but if I concentrate, I can find some memories linked to her also. A neighbor, maybe? Someone insignificant… And behind her, a shadow bends to have a look at the curiosity she's pointing out. A shadow that eclipses my whole world.

I seat down softly, raising my head and keeping my ears high, turned to him. The bright white sheets make my vision slightly blurry but I manage to have a good look at him. My heart slows down, the tiredness vanishes, and the distant ringing of chimes makes the whole scene look like a dream. Am I going to wake up in the same cardboard, in the same dirty street, under the grey light of this world I used to hate?

“Milo?”

That's my name. I forgot it, somewhere along the way, but in his mouth, rolling on his tongue, this is my name. And this is my man. I will not wake up.

I see him coming rapidly in my direction, somewhat worried by something, and I tilt my head to have a better look at his face. His hair is still long, gently curled and tied by a green rubber band that I found someday in the bushes. He said he loved it, and he still wears it. I loved it too, because it was almost the same green as his eyes, and he looked awesome with it. Well, he always looks awesome, but he's so happy when I bring him a new treasure that his face shines like the sun, and I melt.

Like now, I'm totally melting.

He bends and suddenly, picks me up from the ground, his big hands holding me under the front paws.

“Milo , you're back” he shouts like he couldn't believe it.

I purr loudly, answering his question, and get rewarded by a crushing hug that leaves me lifeless.

“Is that your cat? The kitten that used to live there?”

“Yes… God, he's so thin! Where have you been, Milo?”

He cradles me in his arms, scratching my belly with one finger, and I keep purring like crazy.

I've been nowhere, my love, lost in the emptiness.

Until I found you.

End

December 2009