The Dummy

How can I? How can I walk alone? Alone, all alone. No one to talk to, to talk with. A dummy would be better company than no one!
At least a dummy takes a figure. I could make him say what I want to hear. My arms could keep him safe, protect him from the wilderness.
One thing I regret, leaving him. The perfect body, err person. Eyes full of green enchantment. He did not want me any longer.
To love me is one thing, to leave is another. For months I thought of revenge. Ways to make him miserable like he has made me.
He was making love to her, caressing her skin. She wasn't me. How could he move on like that?
A darkened secret was about to unfold. She, or so he thought, was really me. He whispered my name. Suddenly, he falls on the bed, sleeping.
I left him there. He just sleeps. Sleeps in his bed full of blood, love and pain. His heart lays next to him, with a post-it note stuck to it. In his own blood, written in his handwriting, FUCK YOU! Of course, I forged it.
The dummy would have been a great companion. Someone to talk to, love, and hold. If only I would have brought him along.