• The Weight of this Teardrop (Necklace)

    by  • December 17, 2012 • * Safe for Work *, Breaking Up • 1 Comment


    I am trying to rationalize whether I should give you back the Roman glass pendant that you gave me for my birthday. You were so proud of it, proud that you could give me something that lit up my face the way my presents affected you. I love it still, for what it is. And yet, the best part of its significance was remembering your face and the glee that consumed you as you handed me a pair of gardening gloves with the necklace in the thumb.

    I have forgotten that face.

    Hey, N, do you remember that one time that we stargazed at the nature center? How about that time that we walked in the rain for hours? Or when you took me home on Easter and I ate the ham? I mean, that was the moment I knew I loved you if I ate the HAM. What about when I told you I loved you on the bridge? Let’s not forget about that. Promise? You didn’t reciprocate – or should I say, comprehend. Do you remember the time when you accused me of being too nice? Do you remember when you said that you didn’t know who I was? Oh hey, remember that time you stood me up in a bar?

    Remember that rainy March night when I called you, crying, begging you to help me cope with my mother’s cancer diagnosis?

    If you don’t that’s okay. I remember your answer. “I am sorry, but I would rather not.”

    I still wear this necklace because it once made you happy. Remembering that joy you had made it worth wearing through the pain and a means by which I could remember better times. But now I’ve forgotten your face and the joy. I only see a blue dot which gathers compliments but not happiness. I don’t feel elation, just the weight of bad memories and superficiality that you are so good at generating. It all gathers on my chest, collecting weight slowly throughout the day, to the point that I feel as if it will leave an imprint on my skin. I want to rip it off. Chuck it at your face. Scream at all the girls to stay away, that you’ll only hurt them and that you are incapable of loving.

    But I’m not. You’ve taken a lot from me, but not my ability to feel. I know that every time I wear this necklace.

    You always said you didn’t deserve me. I guess you proved it.

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    One Response to The Weight of this Teardrop (Necklace)

    1. anonymous
      December 18, 2012 at 3:02 am

      Give it back, you’re only holding on to the past!



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