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
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