Wow. What a ride it's been huh? I still remember the day I saw you. And I knew I wanted you. I remember how my sister hated you. I remember everything. I wish you could talk, but for different reasons than I used to. Imagine the stories you could tell me now...
When I was little, I imagined you were real. You were my best friend. I never went to bed without you tucked snugly under my arm. I routinely ran you through the washing machine because you had white fur and you were always filthy. I remember whenever I argued with my sister, you were always the one I talked to. How many child's secrets went into your ears that you never breathed a word of--nor comprehended? How many germs and bacteria found their way into your matted fur when I was sick? How many tears did your paws wipe from my eyes? You were my favorite. The one I liked more than any of the other stuffed animals I owned. I made you the queen of my little mattress kingdom. How many stories did we act out with the other critters? How many times did you and I roll our eyes at them because of how ridiculous they were being? How many times did I wish you could talk back to me?
I looked at you tonight, and I remembered everything. Now you lay forgotten, tucked under a pillow out of sight. Now I fall asleep hugging a pillow, and not you. When I'm sick, once again a pillow takes all the germs and bacteria. When I cry I bury my face into my pillow. I'm sorry I replaced you with a pillow...
I suppose if you had a conscious, you would have known this day would come. The day I looked at you and smiled at the memories but tucked you under the pillows again anyways. The day that my bed was no longer a kingdom and you were no longer my confidante. Now you lay alone listening to me talk on the phone with the one who replaced you as my secret-keeper, the one who I invent stories with (most of them future dreams), and the one who I always wish was where you used to be. I'm sorry I replaced you with a boyfriend...
I know I had to grow up. And growing up means that my once faithful friend becomes a relic of the past and is replaced with a pillow and a man. But the good news is that every so often, when I really need you, you're still there, under the pillow. And you still fit perfectly under my arm. Your white fur isn't so white and soft anymore, and your nose isn't velvet because I kissed it too many times. But you're still there, waiting under the pillow. And I assure you, when my children ask me--with their favorite toy in tow--about who was my best friend when I was their age, I'll pull you out of whatever box you've been stowed in and show them. I'll tell them all about our adventures. And when they leave my room, before I put you back in your box, I'll kiss that once-velvet nose once again and smile because even though I grew up, our friendship can never die.
Love,
Me
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