Reading too much into it.

He was deadweight on my wrist, weighing me down. Yes, I swung him back and forth, but I gathered the strength to keep moving forward with him on tow. I trotted back looking forward to the future of the weight on my wrist. There would be an ending, I knew, but I didn’t think the ending would come as it did. I trotted forward, stopping for a while to have a short chat, stopped again to replace what I had lost (sobs), then marched forward with a sure step. Then, as I crossed the street he decided to give up on me. Without a word of goodbye he slipped through the loop and suddenly there was red splattered all over the road. The white-ish lumps sprawled in the midst of the red mess, hideously decorating the road. I stared at him, useless, dead, and splayed across the grey road. I felt betrayed. I felt like the world had conspired to take away this one small pleasure that I had. I felt abandoned. There he was right in front of me, but it was as good as not being there at all. You are of no use to me if you aren’t in your destined form. You gave up on me. Without sign or signal, you just gave up on me. Slipped through the loop and jumped. Now you’re dead. I looked longingly at the white lumps that I insisted you have, and I bitterly looked away. Fine, be bird food then.

As I walked away, I could feel a small part of you that had splattered onto my feet. As I moved forward I was constantly reminded by the sticky feeling that I once had you in my hands, and now I leave you behind. Yes, I walked away; but you were the one to slip down and crash to the ground. You are the one who chose to be away from me. Don’t judge me for having the strength to walk away when it was you who decided to give up on me first. You were heavily cutting into my wrist but I carried on with you. I willingly carried on my journey with you, looking forward to better times together. In my own way, I loved you. I wasn’t perfect, but I loved you. I’ve only known you for a little while, but I knew you. I knew you. How I had been longing for you for hours, and when I finally had you with me, you decide to leave. Now here I am left with the flimsy raffia that used to bond us. I look at the raffia and then back at you. Useless you; lying flat on the road. I hold on to the raffia, walk on a few steps and realize the madness of bringing this useless bond that we once had. I didn’t want to litter, but I was too hurt to carry it a step further. I let go, let it flutter away, away from me.