As lonely as a water bottle. As fragile as a feather.

I looked down at the box at hand. In it was a feather. I picked it up. smoothed it, wanting it to look like what it looked like when he first picked it up and handed it to me. That day we were walking together before our classes in the morning. I was surprised then. I did not understand why he would give it to me. I still don't. I knew who he liked to show care to, it was not me. Aside from being attached to people, I get attached to things. A feather I held for five minutes is a feather I do not want to let go of. It felt wrong. Yet I didn't want to seem weird or desperate, so when it flew as we were getting up to leave the bench, I looked at it, then started walking away. He grabbed it again. Handed it to me again. A few months later when I was packing, I could not leave it, I could not throw it away. It was little. Any wind can blow it, can break break it. It belonged in the box.

He probably forgot about it that same day.

I find it hard to be like that. I connect with objects, with places, I even empathize with them. I know it sounds stupid, but to this day, when putting water bottles into the fridge, I make sure to put a few together in the same place, for I do not want a water bottle to feel lonely.

I wonder if he remember details, objects, moments. Sometimes when he mentions a memory over text, I act as if I don't quite remember it. You have to look busy to look cool. Except I am not busy. I have not been busy. I live in my memories. Everyday. I just go through a cycle of them. I am in the same place I was. Just further down in the ground. In the same place, but in a hole.

I know he is not like me. Even when he cherishes memories, they are not memories of me. I am blurry and in a corner in them. A game I won is a game she won. A test I aced is a test she aced. A stuffed animal I crocheted is a stuffed animal she crocheted in his memories. He only remembers what she said, never what I said. He makes that clear every time we talk.

I look back down at the feather. Beside it is a sea shell and a birthday card from a time he made me happy. And though I knew better, I lied to myself and had a happy day. Besides them is a book I was the first to receive from him, or at least thats what I know. Others got it later. She got the best copy.

I still find buddies for water bottles, they look really lonely without them, it breaks my heart. Besides its not hard to make a water bottle feel cared for.