October 30, 2010
The necklace stared back at me in the mirror, the charm at the end seeming to burn my chest where it rested on my skin. Forever, the heart-shaped charm read mockingly to me, as if it knew exactly what had happened thirteen days ago. I unwillingly glanced at the clock. Thirteen days and one hour, I corrected myself. It seemed as if wearing it now was some sort of disguise meant to trick others, while the necklace itself knew that I was simply an imposter.
I could distinctly remember a slight quickening of my heartbeat every time I closed the clasp around my neck, how I proudly showed off that heart-shaped charm to anyone who would look. Now I could only feel embarrassed that I would try to hide the truth, as if I were in any way the same person I was thirteen days, one hour ago.
Forever, it laughed again, the letters covered slightly with the dust it had accumulated after being thrown under my dresser. But I could only leave it there, crying to be worn, for so long. Yet even now as I answered its cries, the necklace ridiculed my failed attempt at masking the past. Able to take its scorn no longer, I wrenched it off, sending the charm spiraling into a corner. Pathetic, I thought to myself repeatedly.
Still, I stared at the empty spot on my neck, longing to wear the charm proudly as I once did, and longing even more that I could be proud of my lack of a necklace. From the corner, I could faintly hear the heart-shaped charm laughing at these thoughts. Silly girl, it jeered. Don’t you know that it’s impossible to disguise a broken heart?

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