When I remove the necklace on rare occasions, I feel it like a phantom limb. I touch the spot on my neck where it lies and I ache to wrap it around my neck once more. I ache to be with it. I wonder what Bean left buried on this earth. When she died, she must have left deposits in the people she loved, in the objects she cherished. I can see it in my mom's eyes when she says her name, there is a living light beaming through, reminding us that energy cannot be created or destroyed, even in death.
I came to this realization late in the light of her love, but still early in life. I treat it like a happy horcrux, a piece of her soul that I inherited, and now feel bound to. I am wedded to the necklace not for its beauty or its twinkle, nor the fact that it is my only real diamond. I am tied to my namesake, the knot rests around my neck.
I'm a recent grad of an expired women's college, living, working, and writing in Pittsburgh, PA. You can find more of my work here: http://cloachrysanthemum.blogspot.com/ and follow me on instagram: @chloe_christina and twitter: @chl0e_christina