When teddy bear lamps die

A dead teddy bear lamp

So. I’ve been left out in the rain. Put out. Abandoned. There’s no easy way to say it, is there? No honey coating the obvious truth here. And I know what you’re thinking, so don’t pretend otherwise. You’re wondering how I could have been so gullible as to hope for a different outcome. Doesn’t it always end up this way? A lonely bear sitting in the gutter staring at a shattered future. A bear who cared perhaps just a little too much.

See that look on my face? Is that the face of a bear trying desperately to hang onto the last shreds of self-dignity while, inside, everything is smashed to pieces and churning? Just churning. Well, I’ve got news for you, Mr When-will-those-bears-ever-learn. I always knew it would come to this. Honestly, did you really expect me to believe differently? To hope against hope that this might be The One when all around us lies the undeniable evidence that when push comes to shove, it’s always the bear who gets the wrong end of the broomstick? I wasn’t born yesterday. I know how the chocolate buttons get handed out.

So, please, don’t pity me but also don’t mistake me for some naïve, fresh-out-of-the-box, ‘Good-night teddy’-will-last-forever kind of bear. No way. That’s not the bear I am. That’s another bear. A foolish, slack-brained bear who ought to know better.

So. Look, everything’s fine. Just a momentary pause in the helter-skelter ride that is life’s journey. I’m just sitting here. Waiting to see what the next roll of the tombola brings. At least I’ve still got my Pooh lampshade to keep me dry. Honestly, I’m starting to like it out here in the fresh air, the night sky. Rain. Refreshing rain. I think I might stay a while. Life’s good.

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