We say this. We do not remember the soft toy, a rabbit in this case, grey from too many hugs, the sad slump of a desperate kind of loving. A toy dropped down between the tracks on the platform and lovingly rescued with the help of a transport worker and tears. The fur fabric shrug that starves off the darkness and the nightmares that accompanies it.
I will love you forever, I whispered to it, this threadbare promise of comfort.
I will love you forever, I say because of kisses and a shared intimacy and some time spent in each other's company. Forever and forever.
I pick up the grey thing, this artifact, this first love with the stuffing cuddled flat and lifeless. It is true. There is something amis in my heart when I touch it, a bur I have swallowed and that has lodged there. No love left, just a whiff of sadness. Nostalgia. Sentiment.
Still, it is old, and unnecessary and there is no space in the flat anymore and I will throw it away as if it is nothing - was nothing.
And I think about you. And I wonder.
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