When I was alone I thought about who’d come next.
When I was taken I wondered when he’d come.
When I was alone again I wondered if he’d come back.
When I was taken back I wondered when I’d be let go…

And that’s where the story ends
With no climax, because I’m a yoyo and all I am is a toy.
I’ve come to terms with such.

In the words of Elizabeth Wurtzel:
“Now. More. Again.”