Leafy

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Firey let me rest in my room while he cleaned the dishes. I just laid down and thought of my plans tomorrow. I haven't stayed with him for longer than what— a week? Now I'm getting traumatic memories from him.

Sometimes I don't understand at all.

I crawl to the box beside my bed, reaching in for the Firey plush I've sown last year.

This was a remembrance of when I stopped caring.

I remember it was in Spring, and It was our anniversary. There were blurry noises— static, and quiet. I minded my own business, then a guy came up to me. We talked, hung out. On that very same day, he gave me a kiss.

When I had went home that night, I realized what I did. To calm my senses, I made a little plush in resemblance of Firey. So whenever I would think of the same guy, I would remember that I'm married— and keep Firey close to me.

Problem is, I'm still seeing him.

"Ahh, I'm such an ass." I grunted, keeping the plush closer to me.

I stare at the plush— which is eerily smiling at me. "You're so honest, I hate it."

I couldn't sleep that night, restless as I turn my position over and over. "I can't sleep." I turn my gaze at the plush— which I had tucked in its little bed by me. I had remembered every kind memory I've had with Firey— like it was replaying in my brain. Even if I couldn't sleep, at least I wanted to feel that he was here with me.

But maybe I'm just scared to accept him back in my life.

I figured that I could just go asleep if I do some strenuous activities, since maybe that will calm my muscles and tire me out.

Taking the plush away from its cozy warm place and by my side, I give it a little peck.

"Hey, plush. I'm sorry for what I'm about to do."

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