paralysis-reverie

[paralysis-reverie]

Maybe it’s silly and a bit random of me to post about this part of my life, but it’s been stuck in my mind recently.

Back in December 2007 or 2008, my family vacationed in Reno. I recall my mother always playing this one game at Circus Circus where you’d have to roll balls into holes to make your designated derby horse move for lack of better description, and you’d be competing against others in a race to the finish. She managed to win me a white elephant plush toy that I loved more than anything in the world. I named my little white elephant buddy Rollo for no particular reason other than having a toddler’s typical naming convention, and he stuck by my side for the entirety of our stay.

On the last day of our vacation (which I was completely unaware of mind you), I built Rollo a makeshift “house” out of a chair and towels we had in our hotel room. As we left our hotel room, I bid Rollo with what I assumed would be a temporary farewell, promising him that I wouldn’t take long. It was only when we checked out and were driving away in our car did my parents inform me that we wouldn’t return and that there was no way I’d get Rollo back. Devastated, I threw a tantrum and cried until my throat gave out, yelling for my best friend. My exasperated parents had to work out a compromise with their screaming toddler, and they ended up driving back to Circus Circus so that my mother could win me another elephant.

I still have the replacement elephant toy to this day. My family is still in disbelief that it’s been with me for so long. Compared to Rollo, this elephant is gray and named Ellie (basic, I know). As I hug Ellie to sleep, I break my own heart thinking about what could’ve happened to Rollo. How long did he wait in that little corner of that hotel room? Would he resent me for replacing him with another? Did one of the hotel employees find him and take pity, and brought him home to another child? Or did he end up in some unknown landfill, reduced to his cotton stuffing? Although her polyester fur is worn out, Ellie still remains in very good condition. Would Rollo have looked similar if he was still here with me? Wherever you are Rollo, I hope you know I never stopped thinking about you. I’m no longer the carefree and happy child you once knew, but you’re most likely different now too. Life hasn’t been kind to me, and I can only hope it was kinder to you. You remain as one of my few pleasant childhood memories. I wish I could’ve loved you over the years like I did with Ellie. I miss you.

People may find it childish and even foolish of me to speak of an inanimate object that way at my grown age. I’m a firm believer that you shouldn’t let the concept of maturity get in the way of the things that bring you joy and comfort. It’s no fun being grown up like this and watching the world around you slowly burn to the ground, forced to forsake the simple pleasures of life for a harsh reality. You lose and gain a lot throughout a lifetime, whether that be material wise, relationship wise, physically, or mentally. Rollo was my first memory of this brutal truth. Even as I write this lying down on my bed after a few rough mental breakdowns over everything I’ve lost these past couple years, Rollo will probably always be my most heartbreaking goodbye in my mind. I didn’t write all this for any particular reason other than this being the ramblings of a depressed dropout young adult. It’s easy for me to be nihilistic about everything these days, but that tiny white elephant reminds me of times where I felt life was worth living. If something like that was enough to keep this speck of dust in the universe happy, then what the heck, I guess the universe will have to tolerate me a little longer.

If you read this far, thank you for taking the time out of your day to read the musings of a stranger, I appreciate it :)