As I lay there helplessly, darkness, silence and emptiness all around, I can't help thinking back on the days I was happy. I was once happy. I was once his heart's dearest, his constant companion. He used to want me so near him always, we're almost never seen apart. I was his pride, I had his undivided devotion and attention, I was perfect for his needs, never wanting in any aspects. I was then, truly happy.
It is strange how the happiest times always seem the shortest. The blissful days passed as if in a flash. It got more and more often that he didn't want to have me with him all the time anymore. More and more frequently I was left behind while he went about his ways. I tried not to let the hurt and disappointment get hold of me too strongly. He still needed me, didn't he? He still came to me every now and then, didn't he? I was still the only one he had, wasn't I? I was still perfect, complete and not wanting in any aspects, wasn't I?
I was - and then, I no longer was. Though through no fault of mine, an essential, irreplaceable part of me went missing, and needless to say, I would never be the same to him, ever again. Feeling acutely his waning passion for me, I knew it would be a matter of time before the inevitable came. True enough - soon, I overheard him speak of another. He spoke of how much better it'd be for him, all the characteristics which would make it superior to me, and how he was bent on owning it soon. My heart broke - I was about to be replaced. I was devastated. I feared that I would be confined to a solitary, forgotten existence, for the rest of my days. I dreaded every passing day, which brought nearer the arrival of what would be his new love. But meanwhile, I told myself, he still was mine exclusively. He would still have me, keep me and care for me.
Till this day. This day was the day he'd left me behind. Although I do not believe he'd done it intentionally, but the fact remains that I was left behind. Others came and left, and as the day drew to an end, I was the only one still here. The night would be long and hard, and I was all alone.
Morning came, and I was still alone.
Days passed, and he did not come for me. Did he not miss me? Was he not anxious about my well-being and whereabouts? Perhaps his new companion had arrived. I could not bear to think of how I might actually never see him again. Little by little, I fell into deep despair and depression. Then I met it - the one was so like myself, we might have been twins separated at birth.
It was glad to see me again. It told me not to fret, and assured me that its owner could get me back to mine. That, I do not doubt. Of his affection however, I could only hope...