On the shore of a lake where the water is calm, a figurine left on the ground unattended has a good chance of simply remaining until it is found again. However, life is not a lake. Life is an ocean. with crashing waves and engulfing tides. A figurine left on this shore will likely be swallowed up by the ocean. But as life isn't a lake, I am not a motionless figurine. I've dug my fingers into the sand as I was swept away. I've kicked and struggled toward the surface and back toward the shoreline. The ocean seems endless, and my figure naturally sinks. Despite this I know that you could find me when walking near the place where we parted.
If the one who was left behind is a figurine, then you were one too. I wouldn't dare to leave you by a shore, though. I opened my hand with you in it. I tilted my hand until you slipped off, into the hands of someone I thought should have you. A girl who held you while I held you, but slipped her fingers between mine while dreading my touch. I knew you were safe in her hands. I never wanted to stop seeing you, so I didn't. I stroked your head as it appeared above her fingers. I smiled, and cupped my hand behind your head. Feeling wrong, trying to move on, I took my hand away. You were fine, but I was gone and I was alone. The day came when I rushed back and my hand held your head too tightly. You left to a place far away, in her hand. I was left as a lonely figurine.
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