I remember when you loved me. It was just a few short years ago. You used to hold me tight underneath your threadbare patchwork blanket while you slept, the sound of your gentle breath echoing in my ear. We were both so new, so small, so foolish, our untouched hearts only just starting to spread their roots into the ground. Promises still felt binding and friendships still felt true. A year was an infinity and every day was extraordinary and I still really believed that you would never let me go.

Life was easier then. It was just us, running through sunny fields of daffodils with their mouths open to the sun, climbing the hunchbacked willow tree in the backyard, sipping steaming hot chocolate by the crackling fire.

Back then, when life was simple, it was easier to love. There were no complications, no misunderstandings. Just a single, juvenile sentiment, openly expressed by your wide eyes peering into mine.

But time, as it does, robs its young of their loving innocence. I watched powerless as you began to leave our home early each morning, only to come back after the sun had gone to sleep. Years passed, and your arms that once hugged me now brushed me aside. You spent more and more time at your desk, at Matthew’s house, then Jacob’s, then Tiffany’s. Our adventures became mere memories, and our friendship slowly buried itself in the ground.

One stormy night, I slipped underneath your bed; you didn’t even stir. I lay there in a crumple for a week, collecting dust along with your extra bedding and seasonal clothing, before your mother found me and swept me away in a storage box without a second thought. Did she remember the significance I once held in your life? Did she care?

I have not left the box since. In fact, more boxes now accompany mine, darkening my view of this cobwebbed corner of the basement. Still, my little button eyes remain as unblinking as my matted fur is untouched. I believe you have forgotten me, your beloved toy, your Bunny Blue. But don’t worry, little one. I am not sullen or angry in the slightest bit.

After all, I cannot even feel.