How did this happen? How did I end up like this?
Sprawled on top of my old childhood bed, tears pool endlessly off my nose and cheeks onto my dampened pillow. Curling my legs into my body, I try to fill the void that was once my chest.
Aching loneliness, disappointment, and depression seep through my veins like a cloudy toxin.
Wiping my eternally wet face, I reach for my bedside drawer. I haven't done this in years.
All I want to do is go back in time. I want to be the person I once was. A person I liked and respected.
I pull out the old wooden drawer and reach for it.
My old doll.
I feel a little stupid, but, holding her close to my heart, I feel better.
She soaks up my tears as I remember.
Long ago, when the world was nicer, I took this doll everywhere. We were a pair.
I would show her to everyone I knew.
"Look, look! See how pretty she is? Watch this!"
We would do everything together.
I was so proud of her thick dark curls, her rosy smile, and her clear forget-me-not eyes.
I brought her to school, lunch, the dentist, the doctor's office - everywhere.
All of my friends had to see her.
I never let her get dirty or misused. I loved her.
However, time goes on, and I started to grow-up and grow out of such toys.
I would be less careful with her.
My parents became embarrassed because I was too old to be playing with dolls.
I became embarrassed.
My friends didn't have dolls anymore.
So, I would just keep her at home and sleep with her at night.
I would stuff her in the drawer, and then, when I was going to sleep, I would cuddle with my friend.
Again, time goes by.
I became busier.
I would stay our later and eventually had a someone.
I didn't need to cuddle with a stupid doll when I had a someone.
I didn't need a toy to steal my tears when I had a someone to wipe them away.
Then that someone became many someones.
I forgot about the doll completely.
Until every one of my someones decided to forget me too.
I examine my old friend.
Her hair has lost its curl and is ratted in knots.
Her once pristine face is lack luster and chipped.
Her rosy smile has faded into the lightest shade of pink.
Her eyes, Forget- me- nots, now turned cloudy and grey.
I cry myself to sleep.
The next day, I wake up and stretch the night away.
I look downward at that old, raggedy face.
I pick up my doll and place her on the shelf.
Ragged, though she is, she has stood the test of time.
She deserves to be seen, for she has been there when no one else has.
One day, maybe, I will give her to my daughter, but for the time being, she belongs on display.