The story of dino

From a young age, I have always had very obvious attachment issues. I needed an absolute best friend, I hated whenever my mum would have to go somewhere without me and I'd constantly need to be carrying my bit of 'crap'. Just a quick disclaimer - it is only I who can call it 'crap'. Anyway, I understand that you're probably feeling a little lost as to what 'crap' is, so let me explain...

Honestly, I have no description for it but I'll list a few so you get the jist -

• A little teddy

• A ball of Blu Tack

• A McDonalds iCarly watch

• Bottle lids

• Random fidget toys

• Popcorn kernels

• Dino

Firstly, I would like to mention that some of these date back years - but you'll have to guess which ones those are (hehe). These bits of crap were special to me - it still is to this day. Maybe it's just that to me, the unlovable was loveable. Anyway, a particularly special item was ✨DINO✨.

Now, I feel as though the attachment to it could be justified if it was a teddy or a plastic toy - but no, it was a pencil. A bog standard pencil that my mum had bought from a gift shop whilst she was away. Nonetheless, we did everything together, saw everyone together, went everywhere together. Until one day, when he was n0 where to be found. The 'punchline' in this story isn't the return of Dino. I still don't know where he is - though I do have a sneaking suspicion that the year 5 dinner lady stole him. No, the punchline in this story is the aftermath.

As you'd expect having such attachment to a pencil, the loss of it was just as intense. I cried for days over this thing. Recently, I was scrolling through my camera roll, (as you do) and came across a piece of writing from younger hope. I think it very obvious in the first few sentences alone that something wasn't right -

And if that prayer wasn't enough,

Anyway, if you're reading this DINO, please know that you are missed dearly and it woud of bean beter using you for this post.