Your Old Stuffed Animal

I’m your old stuffed animal you sometimes forget.

You used to hug me every day, until I fell behind your bed. I thought I wouldn’t be there for long, that you’d miss me too much. Until days went by, and I realized you didn’t need me anymore.

While I’d grown to love you, you grew up. While I’d grown to depend on you, you found others.

Now I lie in the space between the headboard and the wall, collecting dust and lint and specks of days long forgotten. I wonder what you do out in the world without me, when all I do is think about you. Who you were when you loved me. Who you are now. Who you will be.

Even if you never come back for me, I’ll always be waiting. To play pretend beneath the covers, to wipe your tears dry. To dab the scrapes from the playground, to scare the ghosts from the closet. For anything you need.

You never seem to need me when the window is full of sun. But I’m your old stuffed animal you sometimes forget.

And I’ve never forgotten.