Again I found myself awake close to five in the morning. Jetlag has been the worst since I can remember. Someone reminded me it's worse when you are dealing with emotional things. She knows. Last she was faced with jetlag she went to attend a funeral.
I woke up and break out in sweat. A terrible dream. Yesterday, when I went to say goodbye to my ex, I took my favorite bear with me, the one my late mother gave me as a Christmas gift in 2011. I've never let that bear out of my sight ever since. Every night he watches over me, sits next to the heart-shaped pillow I gave mum for her last Mother's Day gift, and watches over me.
Yesterday, I don't know how my ex inadvertently took it with him, and I didn't say anything. Was I too tired to protest? Did I even notice? Did he actually take my bear? I don't know what happened.
I only remembered the bear is gone this morning when I woke up from the dream. I panicked when I couldn't find him. The panic made worse by the dream. In it, the bear disappears. I was crying. I searched for him everywhere. I was so stunned and so paralyzed by the loss. He is mum's last special gift to me. If I lost him, it would be losing yet another dear object to me after losing the little Spacemonkey Yuri who served with me for over five years...
Why am I attaching so much meaning to a bear? And not to people? He is perhaps the closest I have to companionship and love, the one thing I can attach to, the one "person" I come home to. And he was a gift from mum. Mum's gift to me.
Wherever he is now, I just hope he is alright... I hope he is safe and well taken care of.
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