text: I’m always the first thing you look at, when you wake up. You roll over, looking at me nervously, afraid you have knocked me off your too-small bed again, like you did the very first time I stayed over. It's cute. I'm always there, next to you. I am not as easy to knock over as you may think. We have a good relationship, I think. I am a bit awkward, I never know what to say, and you often get frustrated with how vague I am. I’m sorry. I am sorry that sometimes I get us lost when we are driving. I swear, it's not my fault. I just get mixed up. “I just get mixed up.” Sometime in the last year or so, you've gotten tired of hearing that. The quirks you thought were cute, now you find obnoxious. The fact that I'm tired all the time isn't a plus, either. You want to go out. You want to do things with me, and I just can't find the energy to do them. I still love you. I love everything about you. The way you hold me at night, the way you share all your secrets with me, how dorky you look when you and I try to take a picture together... but you're always smiling in those pictures. I love that we are such a cute couple. The way you are always willing to get wet, just to keep me dry when it rains... it's sweet. Chivalrous, even. You're a proper gentleman. I... see the way you look, sometimes. We've been together years. I know what that look means. You think about others when you lay with me, and those quirks you loathe now draw tempered sighs of disgust. I remember the first time you called me useless, and threw me into the bed. I remember the way you stormed out, mad that I had forgotten to remind you about your pizza. I remember the look of loathing you gave me. A million tiny things all somehow led to that, and from then on you were different. You hit me. Slapped me. Shook me. You called me things I don't want to repeat, and made me feel like just another broken thing. Last night, you hit me so hard I blacked out for a while. When I came too, you had elected to sleep instead of care for me. It didn't surprise me. I know I am trash in your eyes. You've never seen me the way I see you. When you left this morning, you left me behind. You didn't say goodbye like you used to. You didn't bring me along. When you come back, you will have forgotten me entirely.