finding you.

Elsie stared at the blinking cursor on her laptop screen. It mocked her.

“Name one thing you love about yourself,” the self-help article had prompted.

She tapped her fingers against her desk. Nothing came to mind. Was “occasionally funny” a personality trait? Did “being decent at remembering obscure movie quotes” count?

She sighed, slamming her laptop shut.

Her room was a mess—piles of clothes she meant to fold, half-empty coffee mugs, and a to-do list she had scribbled three days ago but never looked at again. ADHD made everything feel like a game of mental pinball, and right now, her thoughts were bouncing between self-loathing and existential dread.

And then, as if the universe was playing a cruel joke, she heard it. A soft, insistent meow.

Elsie turned toward the open window. A cat—black with a single white paw—was perched on the sill, staring at her like it had just been assigned as her guardian angel but deeply regretted the job.

“Uh… hi?” she said.

The cat blinked, unimpressed. Then, as if it owned the place, it leaped inside and plopped onto her bed.

Elsie stared. “Excuse me? Do I look like I have my life together enough to own a cat?”

The cat yawned, stretched, and promptly began licking its paw, as if to say, Sweetheart, you don’t own me. I own you.

She rubbed her temples. “I don’t know who sent you, but I’m not in the mood for a therapy pet right now.”

The cat flicked its tail and meowed again—short and sharp, almost like a scolding.

Elsie narrowed her eyes. “Are you judging me? I already know I’m a mess, thanks.”

Another meow.

“Okay, well, you can’t just be here. You have a home, right? With someone who isn’t on the verge of an existential crisis?”

The cat simply curled up on her blanket, completely ignoring her breakdown.

Elsie groaned and sat beside it. “Fine. You can stay. But only for tonight.”

Silence.

Then, almost absentmindedly, Elsie reached out and ran a hand over its fur. Soft. Warm. Alive.

She exhaled, realizing just how tightly she’d been holding her breath all day.

The cat purred. A deep, soothing sound that rumbled against her fingers.

Elsie leaned back against her pillows. Maybe she wasn’t finding love or purpose tonight. Maybe she wasn’t finding anything at all.

But at least, for now, she wasn’t alone.

And maybe… just maybe, that was enough.