When I was really young a I had a stuffed toy called scruffy, I don’t remember anything about him but have a vague memory of what he looked like. When I was three or four we lost him and I’ve never gotten over it.
I still cry over him, and have just had a small breakdown over him because I miss him so much, and wish I could have him back.
I feel it’s my fault I lost him and I’m so worried that he’s in landfill. We lost him when he fell out of our car and no one noticed till it was too late.
I genuinely have never felt the way I feel about this stuffed toy, for a human. I give so much life to both that toy and the one I have now, life that I never give the people around me.
I'm not sure how to deal with the loss of this stuffed toy, as I said it still hurts me now.
Does anyone else have similar story’s? Or big attachments to inanimate objects?