Love and cat food

I ponder, as I stand in line at 10pm waiting to pay for the cat food for my fat bastard at home, whether that fat bastard might be the longest male relationship I will have in my life.  As I sip from my wine glass (with a stem, thanks to mother), I think about the previous hours spent with friends and the "one that got away."  Now, did he really get away?  I suppose, if I had decided on a perfectly fabulous relationship, minus love, that he would not have gotten away.  But alas, I can't help but feel that there is someone out there who might just love me. I know it's a tall order, but at this point, one I'm willing to wait for.  I guess, in the meantime, I will have to take the conditional love of a 17lb gray beast who has to be fed every 4 hours.