She didn’t like the way that we were always together. She didn’t like the way that I would whisper to you in the night, or how you would giggle with me at our own personal jokes. She didn’t like when we rearranged her terribly organized house. She didn’t like us.
It is not so surprising. I have found that many people tend to lose their rationality when it comes to me. They twist about spouting words, red faced, and bathed in fear. How could I possibly be here? How could I intrude on their lives? I have long grown used to the calloused looks away, and the way that they pretend that I don’t exist. But you saw me.
We worked together in a way that many others refused to acknowledge. You were my voice when I could not speak, asking the questions no one wanted to hear. You were my extended body to do the things that I could not. We were unified, at least until your mother found out about us.
I never hated your mother, you know. What came to her was karma and nothing else. My anger was less suited to destroying her, than you may think. A bit of fear never hurt anyone. It is her own fault she fell down the stairs. She was trying to separate us.
Yet, you tried to forget me. You tried to pretend that I had not existed. You erased the memory of me and moved away. For years I was at a loss, alone once more, waiting for another to cherish me as you had.
When you returned, you had brought a new family with you. How you forgot me, I am not sure. I had to give you the gifts, you see. I had to remind you of all that we once were. I will not apologize for that which is not my fault. We were perfect. We were supposed to stay together. You are the one who betrayed you. But I never lost my need for you. I never lost what we were.
So why is it that you say the same things, when I speak to your children. Why is it that you use her words against me, as if we had not been together for nearly two decades. “There is no one there.”
Why is it that you avoid my gaze. Why is it that you shake in terror when I move things into better placements. You had a terrible memory before. I was only trying to help.
You came back to me, as every member of your family has before. This home is our home. We belong here together. Don’t make me angry, please. Don’t leave me like your mother did. She and I were once perfect too, but you saw how she destroyed that. Become mine forever or let me take your breath away.