it was the near-darkness of the room, i think, that set my thoughts on a downwind spiral toward memories of you. small ones, insignificant ones, ones that hadn't even trailed in as lost thoughts in moments of solitude.

i thought about the gold butterfly earrings you gave me on my 20th birthday. they didn't even fit into my ear piercings because they were meant for toddlers. you told me that it was gold-coated as though that was prideful thing, but the box it came in was the kind you get with purchase and i knew exactly where it came from. the pink box with the edges lined in green came from the small jewelry corner at Wal*Mart and the earrings themselves probably cost like 20 dollars. for some reason, when i think about those earrings and how you gave them to me and how i tried to fit them into my piercings even though the bar was too short, i get so sad and i end up tearing up, so unreasonably and so unexpected. i don't know what part of it makes me feel so sad. is it that they were from Wal*Mart? or is it that they were from Wal*Mart but you presented them to me as if they were something high-end? was it that they didn't fit in my ears? i don't know. i don't know, but in that dark room, on that rocking chair, with the noise machine on 'ocean breeze' and the toddler drinking milk from her bottle in my arms, i was reminded of that. i don't know. i don't know. i just don't know how i can hate you with every cell of my being one day and miss you with tears that flow without reason the next day.