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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1835373-My-Pillow
by BenG
Rated: E · Other · Teen · #1835373
A story about the importance of my pillow in my life
We all have that one person we can talk to about anything, who we can cry about anything with, who we can laugh about anything with, and most importantly, who we can confide in. I don't have that kind of person in my life. As far as I'm concerned, the only thing I need to listen to me is my pillow. My pillow listens to everything I say without judging me. My pillow even wipes away my tears when I'm sad. Nothing is more important to me in life than my pillow. It sounds sad and unusual, but really, if you can't talk to your pillow about something, than who can you really talk to? It's the one thing that will always understand you and side with you no matter what. It'll stay with you til' you decide to go to sleep, and stay with you all through the night no matter the conditions.
I can't even count the number of times I've stormed into my room, tears streaming down my face, and dove headfirst onto my bed. Gripping the pillow tightly around it's body, I sob quietly into it, my tears absorbed by it's precious cotton. My pillow doesn't care if I drench it in tears, or if I scream my heart out into it, it just takes it in without saying a word. It understands that sometimes in life, all you need is someone, or something to listen to you, a trait that many humans are unable to comprehend. It gently nuzzles my face to comfort me, reminding me that everything will be alright soon. I nuzzle back in a way that thanks my pillow without having to say anything. Your pillow can become anything you want it to be.
My pillow understands my anger and frustration the best. It lets me throw full force punches into it without stopping me. It understands that sometimes, you just have to let it all out. I un-bottle everything inside and unleash on my pillow. After I tire of punching, I break down into tears and collapse into the stitches of the cottony object. I hug it, and it hugs back with open corners. Sometimes, a hug is just the right medicine for any kind of mood. With my pillow, I can hug it as long as I want without having to break it off, a luxury that doesn't exist with humans. I hug it almost apologetically, as if to say sorry for violently bashing you. I start to feel bad for my pillow because it didn't deserve to be hit. I guess some people may call me crazy, but my pillow understands every emotion I omit into it.
Every night when I'm laying in my bed at night trying to go to sleep, I think about the girl I'm in love with. She doesn't know I love her, but my pillow does. What's great about my pillow is that I'm able to pretend it's the love of my life. I cradle it in my arms and whisper sensual things, and every now and then, I sneak in a kiss. If you've never said intimate things about somebody you love to your pillow, you've never truly been in love. If you've never laid in bed at night, pretending you were with somebody you know you'll never be able to have, how can you say you're in love? When you're able to say all the things you say to your pillow, to a girl, then you'll know what it means to be in love.
My pillow is a sanctuary. When I'm feeling scared or lost, it's the one thing that will always keep me safe and remind me that everything will be ok. I think people really underestimate the power a pillow can have. Humans rely on other humans way too much for comfort and consolation, when really, your pillow has probably spent more time with you than anybody else and understands you more than any other person can. Your pillow doesn't have the ability to leave you in your time of need. If you haven't talked to your pillow lately, I suggest you do, it's waiting to listen to you, and it always will.

© Copyright 2011 BenG (benf1026 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1835373-My-Pillow