Bunny

When I was about 3 years old, my parents took me to a landfill to drop off "stuff". I walked around with my sister and I found this stuffed bunny. I grabbed him and wouldn't let go. He was filthy, but I could see that underneath the dirt, he was perfect.Bunny became someone I couldn't live without. His eyes captivated me. I would hold him and stare into his eyes for hours at a time. They were buttons, but had swirls in them. Blue with black. Bunny was always a male to me...but he wore a blue corderoy dress for most of his life. He slept with me every night and on those evenings when my brother would hide him from me, I could not sleep until he was with me. He was pink and fluffy (once washed), but over the years became torn (one ear was often hanging by a thread) and worn. Even much later, he still had patches of fluffiness where I had not yet worn away his fur. Bunny slept with me (no matter where I was) until I was around 14. When I moved out, he came with me...but was perched on my dresser. I continued to talk to him about all of my secrets and he always understood and loved me back...no matter what. Eventually, after several moves, Bunny ended up in a box of things stored at my parents' house. It wasn't until years later, when helping my mother clean out her attic, that I discovered he had been tossed (along with the rest of my 'junk'). I cried. I can still see him clearly in my mind...and have tears in my eyes right now as I write this. We've talked about my fears of being left alone. I wonder if it started with Bunny. I miss him.