Confession

I have a confession to make...


I sleep with a stuffed animal.  I will be 23 in a week and I still sleep with a stuffed animal.  His name is Winston and he is a German Schnauzer puppy.  


Winston was given to me by an ex, when he went home for Christmas, so I wouldn't miss him.  Long story short, the guy was a douche and Winston is...well...Winston. 


I can't think of any words to describe Winston, other than his name.  Winston helps me fall asleep at night (in fact, I can't really fall asleep without Winston snuggled up in my arms...) and Winston is my comfort when I am crying.  I can tell Winston anything - he is the best listener and he never tells my secrets.  Winston fills the void of a sleeping boy next to me, and I take Winston everywhere with me.  Winston probably has more miles on him than my mom's car.  He's been to Spearfish with me, he's been to Sioux Falls, Aberdeen, Yankton, Tea, Brookings, Cheyenne, Casper, Arizona and Colorado with me (as well as a bunch of other places I can't remember at the moment).  Winston  is a good cuddler and he never minds if I accidentally throw him on the floor in my sleep.  He doesn't complain if I hog all the bed and get twisted up in the blankets.


Winston is...well...Winston.  And I am 23 and I still sleep with a stuffed animal.  I'm not terribly ashamed to admit it, but I am a tad embarrassed that Winston goes on school trips with me in my suitcase.