People laughed.

“I cut the poor thing to pieces and tossed it in the trash. When my mother found out what I’d done, she was horrified. Like I’d turn to animal cruelty next or something. If she only knew…”

“The thing is,” I spoke to Tate, but I said it to everyone. “The teddy bear was something I loved. More than anything at that time. He was tan with brown ears and paws. His name was Henry. I slept with him until I was way too old.”

I shook my head, embarrassed, while the guys snorted and laughed, and the girls mooned. “One day, these kids down my street caught me carrying the bear around, and they started making fun of me. Calling me a pussy, a baby, looking at me like I was a freak. So I threw the bear in the trash. But that night, I went back out and got it again. The next day, I tried burying it in a box in the attic.”

I looked to Tate again. Her eyes were on me, and she was listening, so I kept going.

“Maybe if I knew it was near, but not gone, then I’d be able to live without it. But that didn’t work either. So after a few days of failing to sleep on my own, to be strong without the stupid animal, I decided to massacre it. If it was beyond repair, then it would be useless to me. I’d have to get by. There wouldn’t be any choice.”

Tate.

“So I took some garden sheers and chopped it to pieces. Cut off the legs. Memories gone. Snip off the arms. Attachment gone. Throw it in the trash. Weakness…gone.”

I looked down, and my voice cracked, remembering how I’d felt like someone had died when I did that.

“I cried the whole first night,” I added, taking a deep breath and clearing the ache in my throat. “It wasn’t until two years later that I found something that I loved more than Henry. I met a girl who became my best friend. So much so, that I even wanted her by me at night. I’d sneak into her room, and we’d fall asleep together. I didn’t need her so much as she just became a part of me. I was wanted, loved, and accepted.”

Date: 2015-02-16; view: 689