A long time ago, as recently as two years ago, I was never a girl for earrings, that is until I turned 21. I yearned to complete my space girl aesthetic with a pair of dangling moons and stars and so my love for the accessory bloomed.
Later, 8 piercings later to be exact, one Thursday eve a rose gold diamond encrusted designer jeweler huggy(I was given as a wedding gift) found its way into the drain while I was doing my evening cleanse over the bathroom sink.
it’s just an earring, right? Is it worth putting my hand down the drain and taking out the sludge in a panic to fish it out?
Well, yes and no. It’s not just an earring, it’s a corporeal inanimate manifestation of the love someone holds for me. It’s a shiny glorification of sentimentality and well it’s also really pretty and expensive .
Sometimes, I think about loss and the stupid amount of loss I’ve suffered over the last year. This loss, I felt I had control over, steps to take to recover my prized jewels. But yes, there are people dying,Kim and I have no control over that. I can’t pay an expert to unscrew some pipe and return my loved one to me.
Every day, I miss them more than before and all I have left are memories and things. Old jerseys with an arbitrary safety pin on it, a safety pin I’d gladly plunge into the depths of a drain to look for.
I can’t bring them back, nothing and no one can, so for now I’ll hold on to things that I can bring back, no matter how silly it may seem.