I walked into the room and spotted her for the first time in years. I had always been able to distinguish her among a crowd of any size, and that night was no different. Lucy had a face full of beauty with a subtle hint of innocence, which gave her that youthful appearance she wore so well. Her sweetness permeated throughout the room just as a newly opened bottle of perfume would, had it been sprayed in my direction. She danced with several people during the evening, and even when she seemed to be having a splendid time, something in her face had not lit up the way it once had with me; I wasn’t sure whether to feel jealous of those she was dancing with or satisfied that the attraction between them was not the same. I did, however, notice something dangling from around her neck, and trying to get a better view, I realized it was the gold locket I gave her for her twentieth birthday. She always had a tendency to leave it open, so that when she walked or moved around the heart would flap open and shut, but that evening it was closed. I wondered what it was she was keeping locked inside of it. A rose petal perhaps? Or it could very well be a picture of a newfound love of hers, if she had one. Yet something deep within me said that it was empty, only to remind her of the love we had found, and the love we had lost together.
A Closed Heart
January 18, 2011