The best thing about coming home from my vacation was being able to hold my teddy bear again.

I didn't take him with me this time because my parents make fun of me.

Because I'm a twenty-eight year old woman, and I still sleep with a teddy bear.

At night, I roll on to my back, and I put him on my chest.

He is no longer soft. His stuffing is getting clumpy, and is slowly disintegrating. His fur is matted polyester, and he doesn't have a nose anymore.

But I still lay him on my chest, and I close my eyes, and I pour all my worries and sadnesses and frustrations of the day into him.

And he holds on to them so I can sleep.

Sometimes, in the morning, he gives them back.

Most of the time he doesn't.

That is why I like sleeping with my teddy.

When I have a man in my life, I will lay him on my chest and pour my sadnesses into him (and hopefully he will do the same), and then we both can sleep.

But until then, all I have is teddy.

.

Rosie.

Before&After