Recently, oil-coated memories of you have been floating up to the surface of my mind- words or images that somehow haven’t been blurred by the years. I remember a conversation we had one night. Your necklace is beautiful, you had said. You stared at it with such fascination that a certain pride welled up inside me. After all, that little smile you gave seemed to be worth a thousand necklaces to me.

I look back on those moments now with a bittersweet nostalgia- some part of me still holds you close. But it’s only now that I realize with a twinge of regret that it wasn’t my necklace you thought beautiful, but your own reflection on the surface of it.