Diamond Teardrop | Teen Ink

Diamond Teardrop

January 10, 2009
By Carmen Meyette, Belleville, ZZ

I sit still and silent and alone as I am looking brokenly upon the “Tomb of the Unknown Soldier”. Is that the story of my Dustin now -- has he suffered such a mangling death that his corpse may not be recognized and brought home?

As I sit at one end of the bench with my back leaned up against the wall I am between the floor and the pool, between land and water. When I think about it this seems to be a fairly accurate way to sum up how I feel.

A floor is solid and supportive -- hard to break, this is me with Dustin. Water however will have its calm-seeming surface broken easily and will swallow you if you let it -- this feeling of helpless drowning is me floundering is Dustin’s absence.

Right now I sit in the middle as I am expected to believe Dustin is alive -- although he is not at war and he is not at home, they say he is still breathing somewhere.

I want to hit them for saying this is so. Every young man from Canada today is at war or at home -- if neither he is dead. Yet they don’t have the nerve to say this to me. Would it really kill them to say “Dustin is dead but we do not know where.”? I guess they think so. Perhaps I allow myself to possess this anger because it quiets the sobbing sadness.

They told him how fighting in the war would be honourable, and he thought seeing all those new places would be so exciting. He wanted to fight for freedom; he wanted to go with all the boys for the country. He would send me letters when he could, he said. Oh I was proud of him.

I remember how when those letters would arrive my heart would just flutter. My heart would flutter because I saw those letters as signs that in his spare time he really would think of me. I see now that his thoughts of me were the wrong reasons to appreciate those letters -- I should have been thankful for the signs that he was okay. I should have been thankful that he was able to write at all.

Back here in Canada we knew the war could only be getting harder for the boys to fight, but I knew mine was coming home soon -- that was most of what I really cared about; that does sound selfish but it’s honest. His contract was almost up, he was coming home.

It was in about the last two months of his contract that he really stopped writing. I thought it was okay though, even if I had no letters to read, I could count down the days until I would see my one true lover again.

Now I sit here in the reflecting room, remembering all this for that one true lover who never did come home.

I watched those young men get off the bus one by one -- men who had left us as boys and come back all grown up and in uniform. I watched their faces light up when they saw their families -- the pure joy that being in Canada brought them was magical to see. I watched for the face that would light up when it saw me standing here. While I fiddled with the beautiful engagement ring on my left hand ring finger, I waited -- Oh, the engagement ring.

I’ m fiddling with it now as I stare over the smooth reflecting pool. This pool and its still water has come to represent death in my mind today. The ring he -- Dustin -- gave to me only three short weeks before he left… Because he loved me and he wanted me to wear that ring to show everyone that I was his and that I would be his forever.

Everyone admired this ring -- told me I was a lucky girl to have caught myself such a “fine young man” when the ring was from my soldier, my passionate patriot. Everyone smiled at me and complimented the ring when in a matter of time he would come home.

But now he is dead. And nobody can stand to look at the ring, when anybody’s eyes fall upon my face today, they are sad. Now they don’t say I’m lucky at all for my soldier will not come home.

That sparkling ring, while I sit here, slips from my pale and shaking fingers and I realize how the tears are pouring down my cheeks to land in the pool I look over. That’s where the ring lands, in the pool. It breaks the surface gently -- like a diamond teardrop. I watch as it sinks peacefully down to rest on the bottom. It sparkles -- like his eyes used to sparkle.

A new wave of sorrow crashes over me as my mind conjures up an image of his sparkling blue eyes. My breath is short as I remember how those perfect eyes used to shine when they looked into mine… how just one glance from him could make my heart stop…

The ring is settled on the bottom of the pool now -- it looks like a frozen, diamond teardrop beneath the water; cried for the loss of a love and eternally preserved by sorrow.

The author's comments:
Discussing an upcoming trip to the War Museum, Ottawa in history class, the teacher mentioned having once seen a wedding ring at the bottom of the reflecting pool. While most of the class brushed the mention off as a spontaneous fact I was inspired to write about just how a wedding right might get to the bottom of that particular pool.

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This article has 79 comments.


alexk said...
on Mar. 9 2009 at 6:11 am
this was a very good story, i loved the way it was written and it was so convincing that i decided not to promote my own story because it is disgraced by this beautiful work of art. if you do not keep writing it would defidently be a shame because you have such and amazing talent...keep it up







-Alex

LadyLuck said...
on Mar. 5 2009 at 8:38 pm
OH My God! this story brought tears to my eyes. it is so beautiful, but so sad. sometimes we forget things can be both, but this definatly reminds us. I hope you become an author so other people can be moved by your feelings.

Samantha said...
on Feb. 14 2009 at 9:01 pm
Gee I really liked it, you have talent girl! I hope you think of become an writer or something like that.

XOXO

Nate said...
on Feb. 11 2009 at 11:52 pm
This is pretty amazing. You captured and showed how people felt back then.

on Feb. 10 2009 at 10:08 pm
Nice job =) Thanks for telling me about it!!!!!!

Ambur said...
on Feb. 9 2009 at 11:21 pm
Oh Carmen, this is a beautiful work of art. It's expressed very well within each word.

So sad though.

Good job. :)

eriinnn said...
on Feb. 4 2009 at 12:07 pm
love it carmenella. you are so good! i rate it..... best!

Chimeron said...
on Feb. 3 2009 at 10:30 pm
I found the story extremely poignant and touching. I think you did a very good job with it.

mike said...
on Feb. 3 2009 at 10:16 pm
wow carmen, this is amazing, good job :)

melissa said...
on Feb. 3 2009 at 10:07 pm
carmen this is the most A-M-A-Z-I-N-G thing i have ever read :)

i loveee it !!!

Channie24 said...
on Feb. 3 2009 at 10:04 pm
Awwe Carmen. Love it. Thats really good. :)

freakshow101 said...
on Feb. 3 2009 at 10:03 pm
CARMEN!!! I love this soo much , you have noo idea. You are so talented and I - well we all - know that you are going to go so far!! Your amazing, keep writing girl !! you know im always here to read whatever you will throw at me :)

Kayla B said...
on Feb. 3 2009 at 9:53 pm
Wow...I`m...just wow. What a great, sad, love filled story. I can`t even begin to describe the words that i am at loss for. xoxo

Jordan said...
on Feb. 3 2009 at 9:51 pm
man, awesoome job,

Jenn said...
on Jan. 26 2009 at 1:31 am
Carmen this is amazing! You truly have captured what that girl would most likely be feeling during that time.

Jeanette said...
on Jan. 20 2009 at 12:17 pm
No matter how many times I read this, it still brings tears to my eyes. I LOVE your writing. I can't even do it justice by commenting because I am at a loss for words. You're going to go far. :)

Amanda said...
on Jan. 20 2009 at 3:51 am
Carmen this is so beautiful. i love it. :)

Laurelle said...
on Jan. 20 2009 at 2:26 am
Love it! Hope it gets written up somewhere! Id buy it.

Bubblez said...
on Jan. 20 2009 at 1:29 am
wow carmen that is an awesome story alot of emotion

great job !


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