He didn't think he was much of a cat person until he met Matilda.

It was a long, lazy summer afternoon in the local park. She was swinging gently on one of the children's swings, fingers interwoven with the metal chains, face turned up to the sun. He didn't notice her at first, lying stomach-down on the grass with his nose buried in a book. But his attention wandered briefly from the page and came to rest upon her slim figure and there was something about her that captured his attention.

She was oblivious. She arched her back, stretched her...

It was the fall that surprised me most.

Throughout my twenties, love had always been akin to a distant country: worth visiting perhaps, but out of my budget. I watched others travel to its shores with a lazy detachment and a very small amount of curiosity. There were other places to go. Other places to see. Love was not a final destination and those that went there seemed -- for the most part -- to be the eager embarrassing tourist types that I always avoided during my holidays.

Then I met Albert. The first thing I told him was that...