My best friend gave me a teddy bear a few months ago. The bear's name is Sunshine. At the moment, he is on a journey, alone, from Utah to Texas, where I currently am living.
I'm starting to have withdrawals...
You won't understand our connection. You may think teddy bears are for children...well, I'm a child at heart. Probably always will be until some unfortunate event changes my life, forever making me sinister and pessimistic about everything beautiful and good around me. That always seems to be the case for those who experience that sort of trauma. You know? Like the old grumpy librarian at your community library - the one that never helped you find that book on the real way to play leap frog, just in spite of the fact that her cat, Fluffy, who was 32 years old, died earlier that week.
Sunshine should be here by the end of the month.
He's traveling in a black trash bag
along with some old jeans and ratty t-shirts I'm gonna give to my little sisters :]
Until then, I'll continue to sleep on this couch upstairs with a blanket that's not mine, and the sound of a mischeivious cat crying itself to sleep every night.
Sunshine better hurry.
I will NOT end up like the dreadful librarian.
And in case you started feeling bad for the librarian...you may not be aware of the average life span for cats, but it was definitely Fluffy's time to die. 32 years old could be considered animal cruelty to some cat owners.