The Return To Sender
Four hand-hammered rose gold rings. The watch I cried about when I opened it. Swavorski crystal danglies. That rose gold triangle ring you gave me for my birthday in the city. And that necklace…that one necklace that I could never take off, even months after you were gone. That necklace with the coordinates of where we met on the front and our anniversary on the back. I had to claw that thing off of my neck so it could join everything else in the recycled Amazon Prime box with your address neatly written on the front.
I wanted all of you exorcised from me, no trace of our dwindling love affair left behind in my townhouse in the woods.
And then, years after sending you the box, a sparkle caught my eye in the very bottom of my jewelry box, where I keep all of my expensive jewelry. A pit filled my stomach, the salt from my tears burned my eyes, goosebumps popped up on my entire body.
A warm hotel lobby. Fire flames flicker the most beautiful light onto your freshly shaved face. Those chestnut eyes fit perfectly into the Christmas garland surrounding our splintered wooden chairs. Your stubby chapped fingers wrapped around my skinny bony hand. Scents of apples, ferns, Christmas trees envelop us. I unwrapped your perfectly taped red wrapping paper to reveal a Swarovski box, which then revealed the ring I fawned over at the mall just weeks before. You remembered. Man, I never took that thing off even after the crystals started falling out of its intricate layers.
I never took you off.
No amount of exorcism can erase you from my life, no matter how many crystals fall out of us. No matter how badly I want everything to stay with you.
We wove too many layers, and the postman cannot possibly get them all back to the half of us they belong to.