I woke up this morning, with something on my chest, that somehow gave me the reason to smile for the rest of the day.
You were not mine to keep, for you were not mine to receive. But years havepassed us by, and for the longest time that you have been with me, nobody seemed to object that I never neglected how I taken you into my care.
That in my 19 years, I would succumb to take you to my bath, and even talk to you while I sleep. And whenever I hugged you so tight (and I knew that if you only had the will to speak up, you’d probably tell me to get away from you once in a while), I remind myself of the times when he was ever hopeful, to earn your owner’s Love. And I would even cry out to you, whenever I’m alone, and you be on top of my head whenever I’m reviewing for an exam, overseeing me if I keep on looking at my phone, rather than my notes.
I may have forgotten to return to her, but whenever I see myself taking care of you, rekindling how I wished I received you from him instead, even if we don’t talk to each other anymore, I am happy with how things have gone.
And we can be even better than how Calvin and Hobbes were like.