I was once just an idea. Well, part of me existed in some ways: fluffy ways, fuzzy ways, real ways; sitting on chairs, couches, pillows; being held, kissed, missed. I was stuffed full of love, I was such a good stuffie. As a thing, I was the cutest thing that my owner, a very loving person, had ever seen. I had eyes, a mouth, a nose, ears, sometimes whiskers, sometimes a tail, sometimes paws, most of the time I was soft, and I could think, hear and feel. I was like basically alive, but my owner had no idea. I was always told how cute I was. You're so cute, a choochiechoochiecoo. Sometimes, when my owner would have friends over, I'd hear them say: Did you ever think something so cute can even exist? As a thing, I was adorable. As an idea, I didn't entirely know. In my diary, I once wrote: Dear Diary, Parent keeps looking at me and saying that, “this will be awesome”. Umm.. what is “this”? Also, I saw them on the computer looking at me I guess?? But I don't remember being there… or in that computer thing… Not super sure whats going on. But I did get three extra kisses goodnight : ) One thing I was fully certain of during the idea/object drama, was how much I was loved. Every morning I was woken up with a kiss, and every evening I fell asleep inside of an embrace, under the covers, absorbing my owner's heat and dreams. Seeing an owner's dreams was rare, and was reserved only for those that were truly loved and super cute. And while usually the dreams involved the two of us in some magical fairytale, there is one particular dream that was like, wildly different. Dear Diary, Today Parent held me in their sleep. They drooled on me a little hehe. I thought this was icky but cute. When Parent holds me Parent sleeps sooooo good. Its funny bc their dreams can be so crazyThis is what happened in the dream last night: we were running thru fields of daffodils. We were running through fields of daffodils and then one of the daffodils opens us and sends us into a CRAZY vortex! It's like numbers and computers and everyone is yelling and someones crying so Parent grabs me and holds me real tight, and its almost too tight, Parent Parent loosen up, I say. But they can't hear me over the screams and their grip gets tighter and tighter and all of the sudden I feel like something is going to happen, in a movie they might say something bad but for some reason I think its something good, and they're still holding me holding me holding and the love begins to pour out of me and my stuffing begins to grow too big for my body and all da sudden - Gush. I obviously shook this off, and said that Parent must be Love Drunk, or something. I really was so loved, and so cute too. Sometimes, because I was so loved, so wanted, I felt like I was being watched, like I was the Chosen One but I didn't know what I was chosen for. Some mornings, I would sit there while my owner played lalala melodies on their piano. Sometimes, they'd position me on top of the instrument and sing to me strange sensational sayings of, “La, la, la, You're a good little stuffie, la,la,la soon you'll be a good little gushie.” I guess that's what I was: an object and an idea. On my last day as a stuffie, I wrote about my brewing transformation: Dear Diary, I feel like today's The Day. The day that whatever the heck Parents says is going to happen will finally happen. IDK, I just get the feeling. The lights are wayyyy brighter today and I feel like I'm free falling through the stars. Your favorite stuffie, Me. That day was a totally normal day until it wasn't. What I can only describe as a series of clicks, flashes, shutters, beeps, pings, whirls, clacks, and then more flashes, shot me into a purple, maybe Violet, maybe Pink, vortex, straight out Parent's dreams, only this time I was alone, and I had a feeling we weren't going to wake up. I had wings, and I was flying, soaring, and colors were flashing. A choir of angels appeared above my shoulder, their angel song pushing me forward like a tailwind. I was thrust into the atmosphere, and then what I thought was the Milky Way, but instead of stars it was pictures of me, pictures of Velveteen friends who look like me, and they were glowing, bouncing, and slowly morphing. Below each one was a name, followed by .JPEG. I was flying too fast to know what they were morphing into. I tried to use my dream-seeing powers to see into the galaxy, then I tried to use my dream-seeing powers to ask a question. “What is a JPEG?” An imaaaage, the chorus of singing angels roared. “How did you get that image of me?” You've existed before The angels swooped down from my shoulder bungalow, and circled me until I was surrounded by a thick tornado of glowing dust. I had heard the words “uploaded”, “downloaded” and “compressed” back on the baby grand and imagined this must be what's happening now. Parent always said that I was the best stuffie in the world, that I was destined for greater things. I thought about how much Parent loved me, that Parent never hurt me, that this must be the greatness Parent sung about, and so I surrendered to the angel songs. The chorus moved into a four-part harmony, It's time to gush, it's time to gush. My fuzzy belly was prodded, my ears were poked, a fleece friend showed up next to me and stuck his arm out. More friends appeared, dozens, maybe even hundreds, together we were so cute. I called out into the angel song, “Promise me I'll keep my soul?” We promise! the galaxy called back. I didn't know what was going to come next, I just knew- I believed - that this was all done because of love. So I closed my eyes and let the words of the angels keep flowing through me, connecting cables, plugging and unplugging routers. You're so cute, a choochiechoochiecoo. My cuteness roared, it bubbled, and I was so filled with it that I knew any minute I was going to explode. And just like magic, everything gushed out of me like lava, and I flowed down my own river until I reached the bouncing pictures, hopped into one, and -GUSH- decided I was going to be the best gushie I could possibly me. For you, for me.