The Internet was made for cats. Or perhaps cats were made for the Internet? Either way, I think it’s pretty clear that cats + Internet = laughter and joy. From the ‘I can has cheezeburger?’ site to so many subreddits and beyond, cats online have brought so much happiness to so many people. And in the age of TikTok, it’s been even easier to see cats doing ridiculous things, or being adorable little jerks, or just being their precious selves.

Enter Ysera. I only became aware of this precious cat maybe four or five months ago. She had a neurological disorder that meant she could no longer walk. Her humans took amazing care of her (along with her cat siblings). They bathed her, they fed her her nom noms. On Wednesdays she’d knock stuff over – her human Charlie would hold her so she could use her little snoot or paws to knock things off a table. Especially Ranch dressing. That girl HATED Ranch dressing. Charlie would show Ysera getting her stretches, her baths, her food, and give us updates on her health.

But every single video started with the same amazing, sweet refrain: “Gooooooood morning Ysera.” And we’d get a zoom in on her sleeping in her little bed, sometimes with snuggling a stuffie, or wearing bunny ears. I stopped and watched her videos every single time they popped up in my feed, and every time they brought me so much happiness.

On Tuesday, 21 January, TikTok got a bit dimmer, as Charlie shared that Ysera had died the day before. Her human was nearby, so she wasn’t alone, and while Ysera’s health was always challenging, it didn’t seem like she would be gone any time soon, so this appeared to be a shock to both Ysera’s humans and her fans. I’m not sure the death of an animal that I’ve never met has impacted me in such a way. I definitely started crying, and I wasn’t alone. I’m sure part of this is because of everything going on in the world right now – there’s so much awful, and she was such a sweet, simple little light in the world, and just when we could all use that even more, she was gone.

In the past few days, my feed has been full of tributes to this sweet little cat – from other cat accounts, and just from humans who were sad to hear she had died, and I wanted to add a little something too. It’s lovely to see how one little cat account had such a wide impact. I love all cats – they’re all perfect (especially my two little orange jerks), and I can’t imagine how hard this must be for Ysera’s humans and her animal siblings. I hope her humans know how much we all appreciate them sharing part of Ysera’s short life with us. I’m going to miss her.

If you want to look at her videos, you can view them here:

@yseratok

I’ve been with my husband for nearly 14 years, but in the time before I met him, when I was dating, I don’t think I was ever ghosted. There’d be an uncomfortable email or maybe text, but no guy just disappeared. I do understand the inclination to avoid the awkward conversation with someone you barely know; it’s easier (though not, I would argue, better) to dissolve into the fog of night than send that text or email and possibly get something unpleasant in return.

However, even though I’ve never been ghosted by a potential romantic partner, I have been ghosted twice by people who I considered good friends. I know folks have written about ‘friendship break-ups’ before (I’m not breaking new ground here), but I find it interesting that ghosting in a romantic sense gets so much attention when I would argue that friendship ghosting is a much more painful experience. A guy or gal who spends a couple of dates with me and decides there’s no future there? Eh, it happens. But someone who knows me well and decides the friendship isn’t worth it to them? That cuts deep.

Even though it’s only happened to me twice, it takes up a lot of space in my head, and I’m hoping that writing about it will help me move past it.

The first time it was former classmate turned roommate. We lived together for two years, then she moved to another state. I also moved away, and she made the effort to come visit me. We spoke on the phone every month or so, and I invited her to my wedding. She didn’t come due to a work event, which I think was probably an obvious sign in retrospect. She got engaged, and called to share the news. But that was the last time I heard from her. I saw she got married because she was tagged in some photos on social media; she didn’t respond to a couple of emails from me so I stopped trying.

Maybe she just didn’t feel like keeping up another long-distance friendship. Maybe I’d said something in a conversation that deeply offended her. I’m not sure what that would be (and as I’m fairly judgmental of myself, and am constantly replaying conversations in my head if I think I’ve said something wrong, I think I would have recognized it) but maybe over time she’d changed and I’d not been around to notice. Maybe it wasn’t a choice, it was just something that happened, and there was no need on her end to try to reconnect.

It happened a second time, about six years ago, and that one hurt even more. And still does, to some extent.

When my partner and I decided to move to London, one thing I was excited about was getting to spend time with my friends. I’d lived in the UK before, and have some good friends who had stayed after grad school. I also had one friend who I met in 2002 in NYC who lived in London and who I was so excited to see. We had kept our friendship up after living away from each other for maybe ten of those years; it was great to spend time with her the first time I lived in the UK.

I think I probably had some odd expectations around what our friendship would be like. When we had lived in the same city before, we saw each other often. When I moved to London – we didn’t see each other much. Obviously people have lives and things going on, but I thought more than once every couple of months wasn’t odd. She also sort of disappeared for a couple of months at a time. With people I consider close friends, we’ll exchange texts every few weeks (if we aren’t in the same town), and more often if we are. Not so much with her, which again, fine. Everyone has their own style.

When we did hang out I found it to be like most other friendships. But I definitely did most of the initiating, so that’s one sign. Over one summer she went silent for a couple of months; then she responded and we got together for lunch. We got dinner and saw a movie with her partner (also a friend), and then had lunch again a month later.

But around Christmas I stopped hearing from her again. My birthday came and went with a text from her partner but not her. I sent a text to share a milestone (finally got my own credit card here!) — nothing. Finally, I sent her an email seeing if she was okay. The thing is, she’s never been someone who is overly open about her life. I have no idea, for example, what her romantic life was like before she met her partner. Not much insight into her childhood. But she was always a good friend in the moment — understanding, willing to listen, offering advice, or just commiserating about the state of the world.

But the more I’ve thought about it, it’s likely that if she were telling this story, it’d go something like this:

“Yeah, I was okay friends with this woman in grad school and after, then we went our separate ways, then she moved to London for a year and we hung out. But she just moved back and wanted to hang out way more than I did, so I just decided to let her down easy because we aren’t that close. Like, I’d listen when she shared stuff but didn’t share the same back so I mean, she must have known it wasn’t that kind of friendship. I’m assuming she got the hint.”

Which is totally valid – not everyone is going to view every friendship the same way. But that doesn’t make it any less sad for the person who thought they had a close friend, y’know?

There’s a part of me that hopes there’s an explanation, because otherwise, I’m just the person who thought she had a good friend but didn’t. Especially, as I get older, I like making new friends, but I also value deeply the people who have known me over the years. She knew me at 22, and knew me at 38 and it’s odd that our shared history just … went away.

In the end, though, just as I wouldn’t actually want to date someone who didn’t want to date me, I don’t want to be friends with someone who doesn’t care for me. I was going to say life is too short for that, but actually, I think life is too hard and too wonderful for that. I know not every friendship will look the same, and I have some fine acquaintances and surface-level friendships that work great. But for my close friends? I want people who are there for me when I need them, and who I am there for as well. For the fun, silly stuff, and for the hard stuff. I thought I had that with her, but I don’t, and it’s time to move on.

I haven’t been to work since 19 December. I mean, I haven’t been in the office since before then, but I mostly work from home, so at around 4PM on the 19th I turned off my work computer and managed to only think about it a couple of times. I didn’t travel – I didn’t even take a day trip (mostly thanks to the weather and the holidays).

So what did I do? I read like four books. I watched Christmas movies and baked. Austin and I sorted out some home repairs and admin (like finally taking a bunch of art to a framer so we can put things up on our very bare walls). I talked to friends on the phone, sent texts to group chats. I put all my photos in photo albums, uploaded ones that aren’t printed yet, and started the process of printing them, because I love looking at physical pictures.

I also started an intro to Buddhism course, which I am super excited about. I’ve taken meditation courses before, and read some books, but I’m specifically excited about taking the steps to actually learn about the Buddha and see if this spiritual tradition is one that resonates with me.

I wrote nearly every day, and posted essays that had been sitting in my drafts.

I played games and did puzzles with Austin. I watched TV shows and movies with him. I sat reading next to him while he played video games. I annoyed him with my need to do things before I could relax.

I CUDDLED THE KITTENS SO MUCH.

Every day I got up and stretched, then ran or did the elliptical, and then did my chores. Usually by mid-day I was done with what I wanted to do that day, and would just sit and read, or watch TV, or maybe go on a walk with Austin. Or bake something. It was delightful.

As always though, in the back of my mind was the reminder that at some point I’d have to go back to work, and back to my regularly scheduled life. And don’t get me wrong, I have a sweet life. Like, it’s really cushy. My partner and I ‘own’ our own home (well, like 25% of it), I have a decent job with a good enough salary and great boss and a schedule I set myself. I have friends and meaningful non-work activities. I have reasonably good health, and I’m very active.

But it did get me thinking, as I regularly do, about the decisions that have been made over the centuries that got us to this place. A place where, even with all the positives about my life, I was exhausted and pretty desperate for this time off. A place where so many folks have to work super hard at jobs they hate to be able to afford things that should just be available, like food, and water, and shelter. Even the phrase we commonly use to talk about working is to ‘earn a living,’ as though we need to earn the right to live. It’s fucking wild.

My job isn’t important, and a lot of jobs are not critical, though I do try to shift the perspective because otherwise I think I’d be miserable. Like, yes, some folks spend their days moving numbers around spreadsheets. But maybe that’s the spreadsheet that manages the production budget for a TV show or film that brings people joy. I do a lot of tasks that on their own seem menial, but they do help (very far down stream) students pursue their dreams of gaining knowledge or becoming doctors. That’s kind of cool.

And of course, behind all of this, was the turning of the calendar, and the assessment of where I am in life in general and what I value and want to focus on. I think there’s more work I need to do there, but this little break has shown me that I want more of this kind of time and space, I want more travel, and I want to find ways to help more people to be able to have what THEY want out of life.

Also more kitten cuddles.