Attachment.

Different people have different fixations. A kid, a sibling, a pet, a paperweight. Something that you always keep or something you adore to bits. A lucky pen maybe or a diary; your first love letter or the first pay cheque. A lover's wrist watch or a parent's photo. Maybe even just a coin from an unknown land which reminds you of a journey you once made or of the seas that you are yet to cross. We all have our hooks.

Mine was a once white and now mostly grey, bunny rabbit/bear called Snowy. His name was ironic since he was never as white as snow except for when I'd first laid eyes on him. Now let's get this straight - I'm a very antisocial element. Kids piss me off to no end with their whining and crying and demands and blabber and pets of any sort, yes even the beloved dogs are a waste of time in my eyes, not to mention loud and licky. How then I grew so attached to a soft toy, beats me. Maybe because I was ten when I first got it, or maybe because it was never, once out of my sight for over a decade; but somehow I shared a bond with that inanimate bunny like I do with no other.

In this world of people walking in and running out, of days when the world gets too much and nights when people don't have time for you - he was the one who was always there. After a severe scolding or a bad fight or an ugly break up, I'd hug him and I'd feel better. Sleep without him in my arms soon became impossible and when I had no choice but to give it a shot, I was always restless like separated from my little kid.

I guess it's safe to say, he is my baby. A boy once brought him to me after a troubled night of attempting to sleep and he told me how I'd smiled even in my sleepy state after looking at Snowy and then finally gone to bed at ease.

It pains me no end now when I look around and don't see that lopsided smile. When I try and replace him with pillows at night which never match up. When I want my confidante after an annoying day at college and he just isn't there. I must've cursed myself gazillion times for my folly and somehow even that's not enough. I want my baby! I miss him so bad that it hurts - it's a physical hurt that springs from constant lack of that one hug that was guaranteed to me every night, that void of the one patient ear which would always listen to my endless rants and the absence of something that was never just an inanimate toy for me but more, so much more.

Will someone please bring him back to me?
I'll owe you, for life.

Pathetically yours,
A tiny little girl trapped in the body of a mopey, hormonal adult.