I found it at a cramped little store in the suburbs of Portland, Oregon in a crowded display by the cash register. Next to me stood a pale skinny bald man with a dozen piercings on his face explaining how to use fortune telling crystals. It shone in the display, my silver tree, the only one in the case with a little splash of color. I bought it and took it home, and it became the pendant I carry.
The pendant I carry started out as a forgettable bobble, a silly little reference understood by myself alone. It hung on my door, worn sparingly and paired with swooping neck lines. I enjoyed the slight weight, enjoyed the feeling of something encircling my neck. Most of all, I enjoyed the compliments, the people telling me how much they adored it. Over time, the pendant began to feel right around my neck, gave me a tangible item to clasp when my nerves were high. My neck began to feel naked without it.
The pendant that I carry has much more meaning to me than it should. It is not particularly expensive, it is not made of precious materials. It never belonged to a loved one, was not even a gift from someone I care about. To anyone else it would just be a faded pendant with no value. The pendant I carry may not be special, but it is wholly mine.
The …show more content…
It’s luster has been rubbed off by my anxious neurotic hands. It is no longer designated only to the shirts with flattering necklines, more often hiding half visible beneath the hem of an old T-shirt. It no longer draws the compliments that used to making so appealing, is no longer anything more than the choker I wear every day. One day, the pendent I carry will be lost, the string broken, the little jewel fallen out. For the pendant I carry is simply a pendant, not a valuable indestructible necklace. The pendant I carry is not the only thing I need to be strong. One day, I will be able to face my troubles, and the pendant will not be the one that faces them for
The pendant I carry started out as a forgettable bobble, a silly little reference understood by myself alone. It hung on my door, worn sparingly and paired with swooping neck lines. I enjoyed the slight weight, enjoyed the feeling of something encircling my neck. Most of all, I enjoyed the compliments, the people telling me how much they adored it. Over time, the pendant began to feel right around my neck, gave me a tangible item to clasp when my nerves were high. My neck began to feel naked without it.
The pendant that I carry has much more meaning to me than it should. It is not particularly expensive, it is not made of precious materials. It never belonged to a loved one, was not even a gift from someone I care about. To anyone else it would just be a faded pendant with no value. The pendant I carry may not be special, but it is wholly mine.
The …show more content…
It’s luster has been rubbed off by my anxious neurotic hands. It is no longer designated only to the shirts with flattering necklines, more often hiding half visible beneath the hem of an old T-shirt. It no longer draws the compliments that used to making so appealing, is no longer anything more than the choker I wear every day. One day, the pendent I carry will be lost, the string broken, the little jewel fallen out. For the pendant I carry is simply a pendant, not a valuable indestructible necklace. The pendant I carry is not the only thing I need to be strong. One day, I will be able to face my troubles, and the pendant will not be the one that faces them for