I feel angry right now. VERY angry. Not as intense as when we first met, 6 years ago, but still…angry.

I used to put up with his stance that people are interchangeable, that much is true – to an extent. He used to spout that to my friends when we first met, until they looked at him in puzzlement and said: “but she’s irreplaceable”, and he would bow down, in the face of such public disapproval. “Oh no, of course she isn't.” Man is a social animal. He wants to be liked.

But tonight, we spoke about getting a kitten. I have wanted one for a long time – I had one once before. My parents bought me one when I was in primary school, and she hid behind the piano for a few days, cowering in terror at her new surroundings, before she was enticed out by hunger.

We were very close – and people laugh when I say this about a cat, but it was true. She even had her kittens on me. Sure she was pregnant, but when the time came, she paced around me whilst I was drowsy in bed, something coming out of her. I thought she was having a poo. Alarmed that my housetrained cat was behaving in such an undignified fashion I yelled for my parents (I was 6 at the time). But out they came, those kittens, all five of them, in their sacs, and she licked them off and ate other unmentionable things. My pjamas were ruined that night due to the bloodstains.

She lived a long time, for a cat.

He has spoken about getting a cat for a while, and it seemed like a big commitment to me. I have hardly known where we are for the last few years: our moving abroad, moving back, family deaths, job changes, his studying. But tonight I said: “yes, let’s get a cat”. It's a huge commitment for me: I would want to shelter it from the whiskers to the grave, so to speak. But then he started to talk about how the money could pay for a child in Africa to study. Of course that made me feel guilt, and I said that we could spend the money on that. But he said no, he didn’t care, he wanted a cat.

But how can we get a cat with that thought out there?