Prodigal Pearl.

I found my pearl!


I lost it two days ago.
I was so sad.
I put the other one away.
It was lonely in its box, one solitary earring on the cushion, sleeping alone at night…
No one to whisper secrets to.
Now it has its mate back.

And I can wear my little reminders again.
The memory that someone loved me enough to give when they were not guaranteed a happy ending.
It altered me forever.

I know that we aren’t supposed to love material things, but I do have emotional attachments to some.
It is the heart inside the giver that I love.
Not the object.

When I see the pearls in my reflection, I don’t see dollar signs, or flash, or “bling”.

I see the snow in December.
I feel the cold wind on my face.
And I’m reminded of the sacrificial gestures of love people make.

I don’t wear pearls.
I wear affection.

And it helps me wait for the day I will be graced with a far more costly adornment.
His embrace.

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