He’s always been there. I’m not sure how long.
He’s been eating it.
It’s comforting to have someone else to grieve over the loss of less and less flesh on my apple with.
It’s nice when he leaves me a bite or two to eat.
He deserves it more than I do anyway.
He stayed with me and my apple for this long.
I think I’m getting sick because of him.
The apple is slowly rotting because of him, and it makes me sick when I eat it.
But that’s okay because I shouldn’t have been eating the apple anyway.
My apple can be his.
As long as it means he’ll stay.