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When I broke up with my first wife (yes, the one named Annie, for all you constant-reload freaks), I moved in to a group house.
One night, lying in bed, feeling utterly alone in the world, I realize there is a presence on the bed.
My roommate’s cat! He knows how lonely I am! He’s keeping me company! Awwww….
Careful to not disturb him, I draw myself up to get as much contact as I can, and fall asleep feeling much less bleak.
I wake to find I’ve been cuddling my crash helmet.