Pink quartz, a smooth hexagon cut quartz. Something so simple, but it means so much more. The day we met, my feet were heavy with shackles of anxiety and nervousness. As soon as you stepped out of your 2000 cherry red Mustang wearing a Metallica "Ride the Lighting" t-shirt, my heart fluttered. Your beautiful eyes locked with mine, and I fell into your arms like it was second nature. I was meant to be there. Cold and warm at the same time, your hands held me close as if I were drifting away and all you could do was hold on. We talked awkwardly, never knowing what to say except “hello” and a couple unsure “you look beautiful”s.

The night before we met, you said you weren't sure about me and you. The fear of abuse and going through another firestorm without any reward was terrifying to you. That night, I cried to you. Thick tears streamed down my face and into the phone that connected us. I told you that I felt something in my chest for you and that every day it wraps itself around my ribcage like vines from a plant just wanting to escape. It's like a bunch of flowers in spring budding and blooming; it can hurt. Every day you water those wildflowers, a jungle in my body.

West Virginia was, and is, beautiful. You led me into the forest of your park. It was dense with trees that have the aroma you smell after it rains. The trees were so enormous, I was a child in a room full of Vikings who happened to be standing next to a lumberjack. The next day we went to your house. We drove on the spindly roads that never seem to end and always feel like they're on the edge of a cliff when it's dark. Your home was tucked away in Francis Holler, a name that struck me when you told me because of how alien it sounded. A country-style home with a mountain of a backyard, literally. I was so nervous to meet your mother, my mind was racing: What if she doesn't like me? I froze to the seat in your car just thinking of the horrible outcome. You grabbed my hand and told me to relax; I defrosted.

A tall lady with short blonde hair and loving, light blue eyes hugged me as soon as I stepped inside. I felt as if I were in a fairytale, being led around by some prince of the mountains. Inside, your home was sweet-smelling of cinnamon and pecans, the walls were lined with photos of family and signs of blessings and bible quotes. I felt at home. We played in your room for what felt like an eternity. I wish it could have been an eternity. You took me on a ride through the trails on the mountains. I was scared of heights, but with you that fear melted away and was replaced with awe. We drove past tree openings that showed a vast image of mountains that tickled the clouds and were full of trees. I don't think I have ever shared something so beautiful with someone before; you made my hermit heart come out of its shell and completely abandon its home.

After we danced through the mountains, we planned to meet my parents for dinner. You dressed coolly but neat with black jeans, a dark jean jacket, a Danzig t-shirt, and my favorite chain around your neck that holds a tiny lock. We went to the most country Texas roadhouse I had ever been to. The music was loud and a lot of it was country. We talked for a while until my parents mentioned the time we would be leaving the next day, a lot earlier than we expected. This news hit us like a truck. I tried hard to negotiate, but to no avail. You told me to stop because you respected my parents' decision. We said our good-byes to my parents, and we stepped into the Mustang. The sky was dark purple and ocean blue with wispy clouds kissed in dark orange. Your face was pink in the cheeks. Fat tears rolled down your face. You looked so beautiful crying, but it broke my heart and I joined in. The atmosphere was a heartsick violet and somewhat thick. I held your hand tightly before I whispered, “Let's enjoy the time we have left.” We drove anywhere we could.

Every place was closed, except for Walmart – the last place I thought we'd go, but it was all we could do. We wandered the aisles for a while. You were so set on buying me something but we couldn't find anything, so we looked at furniture, acting like we were shopping for “our house.” You were defeated; we couldn't find anything until I saw a rack of necklaces. Your face lit up, and it made me happy. We walked over with newfound excitement. You searched with so much desire. You needed to buy me something so bad. You picked a box and shut it. You told me to turn around. I didn't know what you picked. Running through the self-checkout lane, we were outside in no time. We rushed to the cherry red Mustang.

We sat there as long as we could, then you forced the small, gray box into my hands, eager to see my reaction. I pulled off the tape and popped off the lid. Inside lay a little rose quartz suspended by a rose gold pendant and chain with a small tag that read: love. A smile broke across my face. I asked you to put the necklace on me as soon as I pulled it out. The gem was so smooth and cool to the touch; it was like glass. Again, tears found their way to my eyes and fell like stones. You wiped away my tears and told me not to cry, but I wasn't sad; I was happy.

We drove on the long, onyx black road into the cold night. You held my hand as we sang “i love you” by Billie Eilish. My throat closed and I cried even harder. I never thought I could be this happy. We stopped at a 7-Eleven. You looked me in the face with disbelief, like you didn't understand how to put the words together. Your hazel eyes looked at me for an answer until your words spilled out into a rose. You held me close. We were now bonded by words, but I was bound by a tiny necklace that means the world to me.