It doesn't surprise you when your string is pulled and the words come out slurred into garble. You've been feeling the catch in your chest, the soft edges to familiar phrases. Thread pulls harshly at the fraying edges of your seams these days. Toys only last forever in museums and you made that choice a long time ago.
But you didn't tell them, because how could you? How do you tell family that you won't always be there for them? So now they gather around as you slump where Bonnie left you and nobody can think of anything to say.