Thirty-six

Attachment is such a nasty feeling. I never wanted to feel attached to anything or anyone. Why should I? Why should I stick to something when in the end I will be alone? Why did I let him see, touch and hold me dearly if in the morning he will be gone? There I lie naked on  his ratty mattress, thinking "Why did I become a paper clip and he became the blown away paper, escaping from me without notice?"