The Meaning of True Love

Author's Note:

Sometimes you witness things in life that teach you what life is really about. The meaning of love was taught to me by two little birds of mine, and I thought it best to bring this through to others somehow. This may seem a bit sentimental, but to me, it meant a lot, and I'll never forget what I saw that day. And since I'm hardly an accredited author, I thought the best way to get this story heard was through this fanfic…

"Death leaves a heartache no one can heal, love leaves a memory no one can steal." --from a headstone in Ireland

It was a bright and sunny day (though the sky would beg to differ). But memories are odd that way, and when we remember something that truly made us happy, the world was happy with us. For that was the day they met.

Two little kittens, not knowing they were destined to fall in love.

They had their ups and downs: their periods of despising the other's company, their times when they couldn't get enough of each other. All in all, they didn't realize that the moments they spent together were the happiest they would ever know. All they knew was the moment they lived in, that passed by all too quickly. When they realized how they felt (in those subtle ways that seem to be a declaration of passion and love), the two kittens turned cats never separated from each other

They had been with each other for everything. When his silver fur was brutally slashed in an attempt to protect his tribe, she was there to lick his wounds. When she was too afraid to come out of her shell, he encouraged her. When she felt threatened, she knew he would always protect her. When he felt weak, he would simply lie against her black and gold fur, and his spirit would soar. Rarely in life do you find a love like this…

It was a normal day, oddly enough, as it seems life mocks those who find rare happiness. Something was evidently wrong. It started with something as silly as losing his balance on a beam he'd walked a million times before. The fall was scarcely harmful, and many in the tribe laughed it off. But she knew something was wrong. Little by little, his hand-paw coordination seemed off. When he found himself getting dizzy from simply standing up, and had to give up the position of protector of the tribe he would otherwise die for, his queen stayed by his side.

And when he went blind, she guided his way.

Then the seizures came.

It didn't look good…

His health was fading fast, but he would ask her to sing for him. If he couldn't see his mate's face, he wanted to be enwrapped in her beautiful voice. And she would do as he asked. She stayed strong for him, with strength she never realized she had. A strength that came from her love.

When his final hours were closing in on him, he couldn't even move. For when he moved, he would collapse into a fit of seizures, eyes darting back and forth, limbs twitching spasmodically.

The only thing stronger was her spirit.

He lied against her, and for the first time in what seemed like an eternity, his fits ceased. So he lay there, and she would not dare move, despite the fact that he was far heavier than she was. She could barely hold him up, but for fear of sending him into another seizure, she did everything she could to keep him upright and comfortable in the position he was in. Her muscles ached and groaned. But the physical pain was nothing. It was time she endure great pains for her mate, like he had always done for her. And she would never think twice of it, no matter how tired and tense her muscles felt, or how much they felt like they just might tear in two.

Death, so many times, is not beautiful. The silver tom, slipping away before his time, was no exception. He was a mess, a shadow of what he once was. He was dirty from filth and bile and the dregs of life. Most would turn in disgust. But the gold queen clutched on to the silver tabby as long as she could.

As though to thank her, he gave her the gentlest nuzzle. It was so faint, so soft, she almost thought it was a hallucination. But when he stirred, somehow determined, she knew. No words needed to be said between the two. Words are often sought after, but they understood that touch was all that was needed.

Dread filled her heart, and her mate could sense this. So when life was finally leaving him, the tom abruptly picked himself up and walked over to a corner of the room. As his love watched, he curled up in a corner,

And there…

He died.

The queen found she didn't have regrets of her mate's final days. As she stared at his lifeless body, too many tears to pronounce themselves right then, she could only let out a barely audible sob. Her muscles ached beyond anything she ever knew, but the pain of saying goodbye was far greater.

It was a warm, sunny day when he left her side. The sun seemed to creep into the den, and twinkle on the lifeless form. But even if it had been snowing outside, she still would have felt the warmth of the life that regretfully departed.

What she will come to realize after all her tears are spent and she is left with nothing more than to think, is that they kept to their lovers' roles even to the end. When she felt threatened, she knew he would always protect her. And when he felt weak, he would simply lay against her black and gold fur…

And his spirit would soar!