Teddy Bear

27. That's how long I've had my teddy bear. It doesn't have any special name, just 狗熊, which literally means teddy bear. It wasn't even supposed to be mine. Although I was only 2 years old then, I remembered it being my sister's birthday and I was crying, because I wanted something too, hence I got 狗熊. 27 years...this teddy has been with me through my pre-school years to my teenage years to adulthood till now - he knew who I had my first crush on, what I was feeling every night when I hug him to sleep at night, how he was the only comforting element in my life when things went wrong, how I cried under my blanket at night, how I sniffled into him, how my tears fell on his body...

Sadly, at times when I didn't need him, I allowed him to fall under my bed without being noticed for days or simply cast aside while I slept. How lonely and abandoned he must have felt, despite being cotton wool and all. And I was thinking, if he'd ever have a chance to come to life, what would he say to me? And I don't remember telling my precious cotton wool that I love him once. But I do...