I remember when I really loved teddy bears. Something about the soft, furry, bundle of cotton always made my day. I don’t know if it was because they were so gosh darn cute or because it symbolized hope with a dash of love. Teddy bears happened to be my go to thing but I never bought them for myself.
It wasn’t until my last relationship that I started receiving them. He was actually the first person to buy them for me. Every holiday or special occasion, I got a bear, puppy, monkey, anything stuffed really. After a while, I quickly realized that the “little girl” in me died. Simply because he took the love and hope out of it. The gifts weren’t thought felt as I’d wanted them to be.
I would go through weeks of hunting for that perfect gift or just sit down and just create something special from scratch. For him, a teddy bear was a quick fix. Whether it was bought at the side of the road or in the store, he made it mines and sold it to me in such a way that I couldn’t say no. I knew I was being cheated out of a good memory but the things we do for “love” right. My hope and love for teddy bears quickly died away until I resented the hell out of them. Gathered them all up and threw them away. Swore off of them for the rest of my life.
We all know that Valentine’s day is quickly approaching, another holiday I don’t too much care for. That’s a story for a different day. Anyway, while walking through the store with my boyfriend, my eyes happened to wonder over to the teddy bear section. I watched him out the corner of my eye and then glanced back at the bears. I don’t know what it was but I felt the “little girl” in me begging just to look at them. It’s the same feeling a child gets when they hear the song of the ice cream truck outside.
Being the stubborn person that I am I quickly blurted out,”I hate teddy bears.” I didn’t hesitate or think about the statement I was making. I just said it with no consideration that maybe, just maybe, he may have gotten me a teddy bear or some other treat. Kind of selfish on my part.
There is now an awkward silence between us and I just find my way over to the that section of stuffed animals. At first, upon entry, I felt nothing but hate for those stupid bears that were used as a cop-out for the duration of a quinquennium. I know they say it’s the thought that counts and I honestly believe that but when it becomes thoughtless…
My boyfriend is waiting ever so patiently for me while I go through the tirade in my head. There is no need for the wall to be built up but I think its the thought of being vulnerable in public that gets me. As I turn to leave the section of nausea, I saw this one small puppy. It had floppy ears and looked so adorable, I must say. It was blue with the most darling eyes and in between its little paws was a heart that said “Luv Ya”.
Just like the Grinch who stole Christmas, the wall I built crumbled and I was that giddy little girl again, relishing in the fact that I found my one true happiness. As sarcastic as that sounds, I was honestly happy beyond all measure. As I approached him I hid the little puppy behind my back, so carefree about it without a thought in the world.
When he finally realizes that I had my trophy with me, he said, “Put it back.” Then followed it up with, “I thought you didn’t like teddy bears, remember?” I watched him defiantly as tears instantly welled in my eyes. He took “Blu” the teddy I had already gotten so attached to and promptly named in the span of five minutes then placed him on the shelf. Needless to say, when he marched me out the store, the tears wouldn’t stop. Much like a child who couldn’t get their way, I threw a fit.
I can’t blame him for getting upset with me and telling me “No.” I see his point and I foresaw the outcome. I guess that’s why I was hiding it. I don’t think I hate teddy bears as much as I say I do. I think I just hate the memories that were attached to them.
Long story short, if I was just a little more open with him, maybe “Blu” would be sitting here with me right now, keeping me company, in my friendless world.