” She had no previous attachment to the ring she now wore. It was pretty, that was all. It was big too. Ready to slip off her finger at any moment. And it did. But ever since she got it back and he stared at it with a smile – she never wanted to part with it. It now fit snug on her finger, not inching a bit. And there it would remain “
I have a pair of short red cowboy boots in my closet. I’ve never worn them. I’ve had plenty of chances to donate them but they will remain with me as long as they can. My dad purchased them for me a few years ago. He thought I’d love them and I do but maybe not for same reasons. They make my legs look stumpy or like I am a cartoon character but he thought I’d like them and so they will always be near me. My dad also gave me an assortment of items earlier this year that I had originally thought belonged to my cousin who passed away. I placed the bag in the back of the car but before pulling away from the train station I grabbed a bracelet out. It wasn’t something I’d normally wear but I put it on because I thought it had belonged to her. My car started to make some funky noises as I was climbing the backroads. I clutched the bracelet in my hand and pleaded with anyone and anything that was listening to just get me home safely. The sun came back out and I arrived back within the hour. Part of me found that giving me a bag of her stuff was a little odd. I didn’t want to use it or touch it because it just broke my heart to know that those were her items. I shouldn’t have them. Not under those circumstances. I gave in that evening and poured everything out onto my bed and began to weep as I looked through eye shadows, bath and body works bottles, and jewelry that wasn’t my style. There were two candles among the mess and I placed them next to the picture I had printed out of the two of us. I put it on my shelf. I took out some purple nail polish and painted my nails while still crying. I called my dad later that night and he asked if I went through the stuff. I said I did but that it was a really difficult experience for me because it was supposed to belong to her, not me. He laughed and exclaimed that only the candles and bath products had been hers. The rest were items his friend gave him to give to me. She didn’t want them anymore so she thought maybe I’d get some use out of them. I told him about the bracelet and how I kept it on because I thought it was aiding me in getting home without my car breaking down. We both agreed that it’s kind of a funny memory and how those items will probably always remind me of her now. Months later I still have all of it. I refused to get rid of them. And every time I pass that shelf in the corner of my room I laugh about how horrendously sweet those two cupcake scented candles smell. But there they stay on the picture of us. There will be items and locations and books and words that will be kissed with the memory of someone you’ve known. And after a part of them has marked something it will mark you too.