There's all kinds of love in the world, Doug. Teddy deserves some, too.
I feel bad for people who lose their friends (of any kind) and don't have them to turn to. When we're little we have the power to grant life in a way we generally lose as we get older. I think one lucky bit of our abuse is this ability to maintain that power when get older, maybe because we get a bit stuck in childhood (so many posts about this here). That's good, too, not just bad. We get the positive with the negative.
Teddy is still alive for you. That's a blessing.
The embarrassment comes from our culture telling us (abused or not) to grow up: when growing up means dropping imagination for reality (the kind of science reality that kills mystery).
I'd rather have the mystery. And the friends. The idea of them not being alive anymore brings tears to my eyes.