I had 2 stuffed animals growing up that I loved so fucking dearly. One was a teddy bear with patches that my great aunt gave me before she died, the 2nd was a big stuffed jellyfish (at least 4 feet tall if you held it up and let the tentacles touch the ground) that I won at Disney World making 3 baskets in a row on those shitty, oblong rims. I had a backstory in my head that they were best friends and would hang out when I was in school like Toy Story.

As I got older and met the girl that turned me MGTOW, she asked for the jellyfish. I refused, and the asking turned into crying and throwing fits. I finally relented just because I was sick of it, but I hated separating them even though I was 19 then and over the pretend phase. She slept with him nightly and promised to treat him well. She also took one of my favorite shirts without asking she claimed to sleep in every night with him. X months later, before she moved, she asked for the bear too. I drew the fucking line there and I told she absolutely couldn't have both. Good God, did that piss her off. I didn't give in to her bitching and crying that time though.

She still has my fucking jellyfish. I asked for her to FedEx it back to me when we broke up like a year and a half later, I even told her I'd reimburse her for any shipping costs, but she never did. Still has that fucking shirt too. They're probably rotting in a Goodwill or something right now, that fucking whore.

It shouldn't bother me, but it really fucking does. Like a father who always wonders about the kid he gave up for adoption.