The things I carry weigh little on my body.
 

My phone fits comfortably in my pocket so that sometimes I forget it's there. My wallet, unfortunately, contributes almost nothing to the weight of my bag. My backpack is not too much of a burden, as long as I'm able to stop at my locker a few times a day. The bracelet I received on my sixteenth birthday weighs the least of them all, and yet I feel its presence more heavily than all the rest.
  The bracelet isn't much.

  At first glance, it appears to be a nondescript black cord with two silver charms. At closer inspection, however, it's clear that the cord, though faded now with time, is durable and unlikely to break for years to come. The two charms are scuffed slightly from wear, but have not rusted like the thin metal loops that they hang from. The first charm takes the shape of a heart and is studded with diamonds. It sparkles subtly when the light hits it just right. The second charm is a larger heart shape, holding the inscription Willow and Eva 5ever. Four words that hang from my wrist, unseen by most and always felt by me.

  The bracelet is almost always worn on my right hand.

  I imagine the harsh clanging and metallic scrape of the silver charms on my hard desk become especially bothersome to others during tests, but for me it is as familiar a sound as the dull scratch of pencil on paper. In fact I hardly notice its presence during the day, so familiar have I become with its feather-light weight on my wrist. Oftentimes I will jiggle my wrist absently to feel the cord rub my skin softly and hear the musical clinking noises produced by the two charms together. The only conscious decision I make concerning my bracelet is to remove it with care each night before I shower.

  The bracelet is the only present I can remember receiving on my sixteenth birthday.

  There were others, of course, from my parents and grandparents, probably with heftier price tags and meticulously folded wrapping paper. What the gift from my passionate friend lacked in fanfare, it made up for in consideration. Though the concept of an engraved piece of jewelry is not an original one, the particular inscription holds significance only the two of us can comprehend and a promise to remain the best of friends even longer than forever.

  The promise I made and the promise made to me weighs in my mind each day, grounding me on days when I feel insignificant enough to float away. The solid, physical proof that I am important to someone, missed when I am not around, and loved always, dangles innocuously from my hand each day.  Consistently present for anyone to see if they decided to look close enough, and available to me at all times when she is not. The shallow grooves etched into the smooth surface are always within reach of a bent finger; to view the glittering contrast of the silver against my skin, I need only bring my wrist inches from my face, and the musical tinkle I adore is merely an arm’s length away. Always I carry with me our entire friendship, a lovely thing built over years and durable enough to last for many to come, dangling prettily on a simple back cord.