The bear's name wasn't always Heartbreak.
He used to be Teddy Bear Chester, a symbol of the future. He was hope.
His fur was soft when he was first bought, the ribbon on his neck shiny and clean.
His eyes glimmered with artificial joy.
He was hugged tightly on Valentine's Day, greeted with a pleased squeal.
He could feel the love between her and the gifter.
The bear was kept warm every night
as the girl lay and dreamt of her love.
Sometimes he was held tight in daylight, too,
as heartache racked her body and tears threatened to spill.
For months he was loved well.

But then the love was accompanied by pain.
He was moved to a new place, with the same girl.
Different bed, same heart.
Same loneliness and love.

He felt the pain grow in the girl.
The loneliness. The sadness.
There was still love, but it was slowly smothered.

Then it was gone.

So he became the Heartbreak Bear,
his new home a shelf in the closet.
Before he was hidden away he saw
her with a new lover,
a smile on her face.
He felt new love within her,
and closed his eyes as she later tucked him away.
Her touch was still gentle on his now-greasy fur,
ragged from countless nights buried under her covers.
She brushed one last kiss across his head,
then set him down
and closed the door.
And the Heartbreak Bear now sits in darkness.
He can still hear her laughing, feel her loving.
She is still warm.