The Pebble

I sit here holding in my hand this tiny pebble. A
pebble is something so meaningless some would say, but
to me this pebble is much more. It is unique in its
shape, size, roundness, and texture. There is not another
like it in the world. This pebble is a symbol of him and
what once was. I have closed my hand in a clenched fist,
to always keep it safe from harm and to protect the
glorious memories. If they escape I might never find this
type of love again. My mind tells me to let go, to forget
about him. I asked myself why hold on to one pebble on a
beach full of sand when there are so many waiting to be
found? My answer is always the same; if you throw
away that one perfect pebble, then you may never find
perfection again. Through these days, weeks, and
months that pass like years I have learned much. I have
learned that you will love many times before you find
that perfect love, if love can be perfect; but if you cannot
let go of your first true love then you never have a chance of
finding that perfect love. I know that I must let my
hand fall open, for if this is the man I am to have then
the pebble will come back to me. I am scared, but for the
first time in many months my hand is beginning to
open. The pain is slowly leaving, and the memories are
not so vivid. My hand is now almost fully open as my
vision gets clearer and I stroll along the beach once again
in search of that one perfect pebble.

-Nicole Fassnacht